The Gods Would Laugh
by K.Firefly
Summary: Weiss has a mission in the mountains. Schwarz is waiting at the top. Things, however, are not what anyone planned on. *Ch 6! Finally updated!*
1. Default Chapter

Hello all! Brand new story! ^^ My muses just came back. I started writing this story because I wanted to do something dark, but already it's progressed from that, and I'm not quite sure where it's going to go. However, I have an inkling, and a few ideas, but I know it'll all write itself out. I hope you guys enjoy it!  
  
The Gods Would Laugh Chapter I  
  
Their target was a drug lord who lived in the mountains. According to their information, he in the head one of the largest rings currently in Japan. Made sure his cocaine was where it needed to be all by computer. It'd made him hard to trace and harder to blame because he was so good at covering his tracks. It was actually fairly far from their head quarters in Tokyo, but hey, you had to do what you had to do. That's what they said, anyway.  
  
Yohji was pissed. They were going to have to march through some damn woods and a mountain just to take out some guy who did evil things by hacking through his computer. Jesus Christ! Who decided who they had to kill, anyway? Yohji supposed there was some guy in Kritiker who liked to pretend he was God. Or maybe there was a whole circle of bastards who were in charge. More then once, Yohji had wondered if they weren't all evil sadistic bastards themselves. Now wouldn't that just be perfectly ironic?  
  
But at least he was getting paid. Just making a living, you know. He really couldn't be blamed. It's not like he decided who should be killed or not. He was just the messenger.  
  
That's what the Nazi's had said after World War II when faced with war crimes.  
  
But what the hell. It was sort of humorous, all things considered. It was such a perfect façade. Who'd come up with it? Assassins in a fuckin' flower shop. You could make a movie or something about it.  
  
Yohji took a long drag on his cigarette. It always amused him when some lady told him these things were going to kill him. Of course, he always just gave her a grin, but he always imagined just telling her that no, honey, he'd be dead way before some fucking cancer stick ruined his lungs. What was the expected life span of an assassin, anyway? It couldn't be very long. Even though he'd been killing for years, there had always been close missions, and he'd brushed with death often. It was the one thing he'd courted more then once. They were almost going steady.  
  
Well, maybe he wouldn't die. Maybe his luck would run forever. Wouldn't that be horrid? He could make it to the top of Kritiker, one of the heads in charge that ordered a whole new group of kids to kill people who did and were 'evil.'  
  
This whole 'evil' thing was damn ambiguous. He couldn't see how he'd been pulled into this, anyway. He could almost say he'd been tricked in because he was so torn up after the death of Asuka. When Birman had come offering a chance to get back at the world and fight for something he could believe in, he had jumped at the chance. But now where was he? In a job he couldn't get out of, and a soul stained with sin. He was going to burn in hell, and for what?  
  
For nothing.  
  
If that didn't blow all.  
  
Yohji blew the smoke out and admired the ring it made.  
  
When had he become so jaded, anyway?  
  
* * * *  
  
"I don't see why we have to go out so far for this mission," Yohji said aloud. He and Omi were at the kitchen table, eating one of their late night meals. Ken was out for a change, and Aya was.being Aya. He was by himself, reading a book. Or doing whatever he did when he wasn't around them.  
  
Yohji wondered how one went about being so mysterious, anyway. Did he plan out his next moves? Come up with scenarios so that he would know how to act cold and cool, and collected? Or had he just been doing that for so long that it came natural to him now?  
  
"Because, Yohji-kun, this guy is a drug lord. He's one of the heads that operates all the crime on the streets. He just managed to distance himself by living in the mountains."  
  
"We're always killing warlords and drug lords. New ones keep popping up." Yohji trailed off. It was no use, really. Omi had created something that he believe in, and that was that he and his fellow members really were doing good and the people that died deserved it. Yohji wasn't quite sure how he did it, but hell, if it kept him busy.  
  
Besides, what if in the eyes of God or whoever judged them, they were doing the right thing? Wouldn't that be so quaint and perfect?  
  
Anyway, Yohji couldn't believe that that was anything more than just fantasy.  
  
Yohji considered for a moment as he glanced over at the youngest member of Weiss. Of everyone on the team, Omi was the one he didn't understand the most. At first Yohji had thought Omi had some sort of façade he kept up, just like the rest of them, but the more he studied the kid, the more he realized that a lot of his emotions were on the top, and most of the time, his smiles were genuine. Also, the kid always had a way of saying something good about someone. Not something he said because he felt it was the right thing to do, but because he really saw the good side of the person and so expressed it. Yohji was fairly sure that any other seventeen year old would have gone nuts, or at least extremely depressed if his sister had died in his arms. Instead, Omi had rebounded after only a few short days. Apparently he'd worked it out somehow internally, and then he'd gone back to normal. Yohji wondered if there was somewhere deep inside where Omi harbored all the feelings he contained so quickly. Or was he really able to move on so quickly? Yohji sighed, understanding the teenager was extremely difficult.  
  
"When do we leave?"  
  
"Tomorrow morning. We're supposed to carry hiking gear. Manx brought the backpacks we'd need. Aya's packing his now."  
  
Ah. So that's where he was.  
  
"How long is this going to take?"  
  
"He's actually really remote, so it's at least a two day hike."  
  
"Jesus! We're assassins, not hikers!"  
  
"Make sure you wear the right stuff! Anyway, you should pack too, Yohji!"  
  
"What about you?"  
  
"I'm done."  
  
"And Ken?"  
  
"He's finished, too," Omi grinned.  
  
"Gahhhh." Yohji groaned. Nonetheless, he pushed away from the table and climbed the stairs, grumbling about having to hike the whole way.  
  
* * * *  
  
"We're going to take this route through the mountains," Omi pointed to an imaginary line on the aerial shots of the mountains they'd be going through or around. As far as Ken was concerned, Omi could be making it all up. Or they could go anyway they wanted. It just looked like a bunch of trees with some rocks. But, as long as his young friend didn't lead them off a cliff, it'd all be good.  
  
"I'm not sure of it's the quickest route, but it seems to be the safest. Anyway, Kritiker has given us all GPS units, so if we get lost, just use those. There's an emergency button on it, just in case something happens. Okay guys! Let's go! Make sure to bring lots of water, too. Of course we need food, and tents and sleep bags.but that's why this backpack is so big!" Omi finished cheerfully, motioning to the large bag of his.  
  
"Do we get a guide?"  
  
"No, I've done hiking before and I know the basic rules, and from what Manx said, Ken was a boy scout, and Aya's family took hikes a long time ago. Looks like you're the only one who's going to have a problem," Omi smiled apologetically.  
  
"This is a lot of work for one guy. Why don't we just get him when he comes out?"  
  
"Because he doesn't. He stays in there all the time. He has his supplies air dropped for him."  
  
".He must be one strange ranger, all alone in those mountains like that."  
  
Omi shrugged.  
  
"Let's go," Aya ordered.  
  
* * * *  
  
Aya was driving his car. Yohji was next to him, and Omi and Ken were in the back. To say they were a bit cramped was an understatement, but it would have been even worse in Yohji's car. Ah, the sacrifices they made for the job. Still, what could one do?  
  
Omi sighed. It was boring riding in the car. His legs were cramping up, he'd finished his book, and there was no one to talk to. Ken was leaned back against his seat, his mouth dropped open. Even though Omi had turned his CD player up as loud as it would go, Ken's snores managed to drown it out. It'd gotten to the point where the normally patient boy was going to do something. He considered elbowing him in the stomach. It'd wake him up and it'd probably be humorous.  
  
But.that wasn't very nice.  
  
Hell. He was OK with killing people, but he couldn't wake his friend up with an elbow to the stomach? What had happened to his priorities?  
  
"Omi, do something," Yohji ordered, startling Omi out of his thoughts.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Ken is making a huge racket. I can't sleep and I can't even concentrate on thinking about the girls I'm going to take out when we get back. Besides, Aya is developing a nervous twitch. Wake him up."  
  
"But he's so peaceful." Alright, so he was a bit of a hypocrite there.  
  
"Right now, he's anything BUT peaceful. Wake him up, Omi."  
  
"Ne, Ken-kun," Omi shook Ken's shoulder. However, the brown haired boy slept on, oblivious. "Ken-kun."  
  
Ken snorted especially loud.  
  
"Alright! I've had enough!" Yohji turned around in his seat, and with his especially long reach, grabbed onto Ken's shirt and began shaking him roughly.  
  
"Gyaaaaagh," Ken rattled as he was jerked back and forth. "Yohji!"  
  
The playboy promptly stopped. "You were snoring."  
  
"You didn't have to do that! You could've woken me up nicely!"  
  
"We tried," Yohji shrugged as he turned back to look out the window. Ken glared over at Omi, whom should've tried to do something.  
  
"We did," Omi smiled then, and Ken responded with his own. No use getting pissed off. Besides, he'd get his revenge on Yohji eventually.  
  
"Just gotta love these family trips," Aya said suddenly, breaking the silence. The three other members of Weiss suddenly stopped what they were doing and stared at the red head, their mouths agape.  
  
* * * *  
  
"Here we are," Aya said, pulling the car into a remote lot designed especially for hikers. From here the team could see several paths leading into the trees.  
  
"I can't believe we have to do this," Yohji complained, climbing out of the car. He was dressed in khaki cargo pants with a tight short-sleeved shirt. He had on a pair of Doc Martin hiking boots, and he was currently looking dubiously at the huge backpack.  
  
"We've never had a mission like this before. It might be fun," Omi said, trying to be optimistic. He was in -surprise-cargo shorts with a cargo vest and a dark blue shirt. It was supposed to allow air in and keep the body cool. At least that's what the tag had said.  
  
"Maybe this is Kritiker's idea of a vacation." Ken mused, pulling at his own cargo pants. "Anyway, it's a long hike."  
  
"Too damn long," Yohji grumbled.  
  
"Let's go," Aya said shortly.  
  
* * * *  
  
"Is this place supposed to be booby trapped at all?" Ken finally broke the silence they had maintained for the first hour or so. None of them had been on a mission like this before, and all admitted there was something strange about it. However, if Kritiker had assigned them the mission, then they had to do it. Maybe this was some sort of test on their part? Still, they'd been assassins so long that tests this late in the game seemed ridiculous. Maybe the heads of Kritiker were just bored. It was summer, after all.  
  
"No. It's a long walk, the guy has excellent security on his computer, so it's virtually impossible to find him-"  
  
"You did."  
  
"Well, yeah.Anyway, since there's almost no real path to his house, it'd be hard to booby trap anything anyway."  
  
"What about in close proximity to his home?"  
  
"I'm not sure," Omi gave a small smile, as if that answered everything.  
  
"It's going to rain," Yohji interrupted Aya and Omi's conversation. The two turned to the playboy.  
  
"What?"  
  
"It's going to rain. Look at those big storm clouds. They're coming our way," Yohji pointed to a huge, menacing thunderhead that did indeed seemed to be blowing in their direction.  
  
"That's going to make thing worse, that's for sure," Ken glared balefully at the clouds moving their way.  
  
"What do we do? Set up camp? Wait here next to the cars until it passes? Go home?" Yohji asked hopefully.  
  
"No. We'll hike through the rain. We need to get there as quickly as possible," Aya explained shortly.  
  
"Aa. Besides, we don't know how long this rain is going to last, Yohji-kun! It IS still rainy season, after all."  
  
"Aya.."  
  
"We're going to hike," Aya said in his 'end-of-discussion' voice.  
  
* * * *  
  
They were wet, miserable, couldn't see through the pounding rain, and had a hard time keeping their footing. Yohji was pissed because he couldn't light a cigarette, and when he'd tried to before the storm, Omi had glared at him and told him he would carelessly throw the butt away and then where would they be?  
  
In a huge raging forest fire. That's where.  
  
At least, that's how it was going to be, according to Omi. Yohji never had the chance to find out because Omi had plucked the cigarette from his hand and poured water from his canteen over it before putting it away in a little pocket of his vest.  
  
"Damnit, I needed that!"  
  
"No you don't. Besides, it's going to give you cancer and you're going to die."  
  
"Omi, I'm pretty damn sure cancer isn't going to be the death of me."  
  
Omi hadn't said anything in reply.  
  
But here they were now, trying to climb up the fucking mountain. The rain had been coming down hard for the last hour or so, and there seemed to be no signs of letting up. Did all assassins have to put up with this sort of crap? He could see why it wasn't a very popular job if they did.  
  
Besides that whole killing thing and damning your soul to hell for eternity thing.  
  
"Whup!" Ken exclaimed suddenly as he lost his footing and fell hard on the unforgiving stones. They were currently making their way up a small deer path they had found, but it was very rocky and slippery and it was a wonder none of them had fallen worst and considerably hurt themselves.  
  
"Ken-kun! Are you okay?" Omi turned around from where he was climbing behind Aya, his face one of concern.  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine," Ken said, rubbing his shin as he pushed himself up.  
  
"I think it's time we set up camp," Aya said suddenly, turning around. They had finally reached somewhat of a clear area, with little outcroppings of rocks around, and just enough space to put down the two tents. Aya himself had begun to grow absolutely miserable, and the sooner he got dry, the happier he'd be. Also, they needed to set up before nightfall, and because of the heavy clouds, night was falling sooner than usual. Besides, it looked like the rest of the team was well past ready to set up to rest. As Aya felt he had responsibility over them, he felt he couldn't push them too hard this early in the trip. They didn't know what they were going to run into later.  
  
* * * *  
  
  
  
"Look, Yohji! I'm absolutely sure this piece goes into this part!"  
  
"No! It's supposed to cross over!"  
  
"No! I've put up tents before! You connect it together at the top by pushing it through straight."  
  
"It crosses over!"  
  
"Damnit, NO!"  
  
"Listen to me, Ken!"  
  
"Jesus, Yohji. Let me do this. Just.hammer the stakes in or something."  
  
"You're putting it together wrong. We're going to get rained on."  
  
"Look, who was a boy scout? Who's never been hiking? Me or you?"  
  
"Alright! We're done!" Omi's voice suddenly interrupted Yohij's and Ken's fighting, and the two temporary enemies looked over at Aya and Omi's tent, which indeed, seemed to be a model of perfection.  
  
"What? How?"  
  
"The ribs simply go through those holes at the top. It was easy after that."  
  
Ken glared at Yohji, who glared back evenly. "I told you."  
  
  
  
Aya looked over the small camp they had constructed. The tent Ken had put up was looking to be in pretty bad shape, and he wondered if either of them would fix it. The two were pretty pissed off at each other, though. He wondered how well it would go with them sleeping in the same tent.  
  
Blood was so hard to clean.  
  
As for his and Omi's tent.well, Aya felt a bit proud of how smoothly that had gone. They hadn't had any problems. It wasn't a great accomplishment, but in a world where life was difficult and doing things exactly right was hard, putting together a tent the right way was something one should be proud of.  
  
After all, they could've had a tent that ended up like Yohji's.  
  
Aya wondered why it was their luck that made it always rain. This would make the mission harder.  
  
While Aya was NOT a religious person, he wondered if somewhere, there wasn't someone or something that hated them and enjoyed making life hell.  
  
As if they wouldn't spend enough time there later.  
  
Hell. Aya wasn't religious, his faith had been broken when his sister had been thrown into a coma and his parents murdered. His life had been totally and utterly destroyed in a matter of seconds. He had despised himself for so long after, 'what ifs' plaguing his thoughts and moments. And through it all, he wondered how God, or whoever, had allowed this to happen. He hadn't been big into religion before, but this has shattered everything.  
  
So he'd left God, and religion, and he'd become an assassin to pay for his sister's medical bills. God had left him, too, and since Aya felt the situation was mutual, it was okay. However, he had a sneaking suspicion that the Devil existed and would be glad to drink the souls of the members of Weiss, Aya included.  
  
How could he believe in one, but not the other? After all, weren't they supposed to be great enemies? One really wouldn't be able to exist without the other, right?  
  
Strange, he usually didn't dwell in this sort of thing for so long. It wasn't worth the effort. It was too late to change back, anyway. Dwelling over his fate now would be like crying over spilt milk.  
  
So in the meantime?  
  
He could be proud of his tent.  
  
* * * *  
  
"Damn this rain!" Ken expressed vehemently. He and Yohji were crammed into the same tent. It was slanted where it shouldn't be, the roof hung down where water had begun to collect because they hadn't put the ribs in right, and to top it all off, they seemed to have chosen the rockiest place. Also, they were damp, and since they hadn't been able to dry off before getting in, their tent was also now damp. They had a little place for an electric lantern, and their sleeping bags were side by side. Beyond that, there wasn't much room except for their bags in the corner.  
  
Both he and Yohji were in very foul moods.  
  
"Damn this mission!" Yohji said sourly.  
  
"How can Kritiker just send us up into the mountains like this? We're not hikers! We don't need to be discreet. They should've just send a helicopter up here and 'accidentally' dropped a bomb on his house," Ken paused as Yohji sent him a look. "Or something. Okay, maybe not a bomb. That would draw a little too much attention. But something!" Ken finished lamely.  
  
"We're getting paid," Yohji said simply.  
  
"Wonderful. When I'm standing at the pearly gates, I can just say, 'Yeah, I killed a lot of people, but I was getting paid.'"  
  
"Don't forget to mention the flower shop."  
  
"What?"  
  
"The flower shop. Maybe you can bribe the angels with some flowers. Especially if the angels are women, then just give them a few flowers, and voila! They'll let you in."  
  
Ken gave Yohji a glare.  
  
"I wonder how Omi and Aya are doing right now? I bet they're dry," Ken said sourly, changing the subject.  
  
"Why Ken, don't you know that being damp makes you appreciate being dry better?"  
  
"Shutup."  
  
Yohji gasped, making himself look offended, "Ken, that was simply uncalled for."  
  
Ken gave Yohji another glare.  
  
* * * *  
  
While things were heating up in the other tent, Omi and Aya had already fallen asleep. They hadn't talked much.or really at all, except for the customary 'good nights' and so forth, and then a run through of the mission and what they had to do. The whole conversation had been cold and distant, which was surprising considering how long they'd known each other. But, there hadn't been much to say, anyway, and Aya didn't feel like he needed to waste his breath on small talk.  
  
The night went without a hitch, and in the morning when they woke up, they found to their dismay that it was still raining. When Ken and Yohji climbed out of their tent, both were sporting bruises. Ken's right eye had become quite dark, and Yohji's lip was swollen. The two occasionally threw glares at one another, and the fact that they'd forgotten to bring coffee didn't lighten the mood at all.  
  
"I'm going to have a cigarette," Yohji declared, glaring at Omi, just asking him dare to defy him, and when Omi didn't say anything, he gave a glare to the sky, making it clear that he was defying Mother Nature. His whole manner seemed to say that no matter what she was willing to throw at them, he was going to have his damn cigarette, and nothing, especially a little bit of rain, was going to stop him.  
  
"What do we have to eat?"  
  
"MRE's," Omi smiled at Ken helpfully.  
  
"Oh no."  
  
"Oh yes."  
  
"Kritiker insisted," Omi said with a shrug, as if that answered everything.  
  
"Kritiker has been acting odd recently. Why would they insist we talk MRE's.? Along with all this other gear, too."  
  
"'Theirs not to reason why, theirs but to do and die,'" Omi quoted suddenly.  
  
"What?"  
  
"From a poem by a British writer by the name of Tennyson. It's called "The Charge of the Light Brigade," Omi explained, "We learned about it in school."  
  
"What's it about?"  
  
"It takes place during the Crimean war. It's about a failed battle where of the 600 men sent in, almost all died."  
  
"That's.just.did you have to make that comparison?"  
  
"Let's get packed," Aya said suddenly, interrupting them.  
  
"We haven't even started eating!" Ken declared in protest. Aya had seemed to be pushing them unusually fast on this trip.  
  
"Hurry up."  
  
Omi hurried over to bring some of the MRE's out of his bag. They were slightly damp, and the whole meal tasted like cardboard. Yohji would not have eaten any if Aya hadn't insisted, and Ken went through it grimly enough. Omi did his best to lighten the situation, but already the moods of his teammates seemed to be as dark as that of the day.  
  
They managed to pack up without any problems, but Yohji and Ken continued glaring at one another.  
  
As the four climbed up the mountain, it seemed to grow even darker. The rain continued down on them as they straggled through a path made by deer or some other natural animal. Huge trees towered on all sides of them, and it was a battle to make it through the brush, which had grown heavy in areas. Aya was using his blade to cut through the heaviest, which made him quite sour as he considered what this might be doing to his blade. In fact, Omi seemed to be the only one who's mood wasn't completely foul, though already his legs sported a lot of scratches from the thorns and other random brush.  
  
The four had to walk in single line, because there was no room for anything else. If they were to be attacked in this place, it would definitely not go well, and the chances of survival in such an ambush would be low. Although Aya was the only one who had given this prospect serious thought, the idea had crossed the minds of the others, and so as they climbed upwards, all were a bit uneasy.  
  
"Get down!" Aya suddenly cried out, simultaneously diving to the ground. After years of quick reflexes and sometimes learning the hard way, the three behind him responded in an instant, each throwing themselves to the floor.  
  
Moments later a large blade swung harmlessly over where they'd been, landing with a dull thunk in a tree behind them.  
  
"A booby trap!" Ken exclaimed. "I thought you said there weren't going to be any!" The soccer player glared accusingly up at the youngest member.  
  
"There weren't supposed to be," Omi said weakly.  
  
"Well, shit!" Yohji cursed from the back of the line. "We almost died from something that wasn't supposed to be there!"  
  
Aya climbed to his feet in the front, "We're going to have to be careful."  
  
It doesn't make any sense for that to have been there. We're on a path that was made by deer. Who would waste time and effort to booby trap all the paths?" Omi said, upset by the fact that his misinformation had almost killed them.  
  
"How paranoid is he?"  
  
"It's just not feasible," Aya said, looking back at the tree that the pendulum had been lodged in. "For this to have been put here would mean he knew we were coming, and would use this path."  
  
There was a moment of silence.  
  
"Maybe he randomly puts traps on all possible trails on these mountains?"  
  
"That's illegal."  
  
"Well yeah, but so is dealing drugs."  
  
"In either case we're going to have to tread carefully. Watch your step, and I'll warn you if I see something."  
  
As the group continued their climb up, Omi looked into the deep woods, wondering if couldn't be something else. The coincidence of having a trap on the same trail they were using was disturbing.  
  
~End Chapter I~  
  
So! Tell me what you think! I have a few ideas for where this story is going. An appearance of Shwartz is a must, and I hope to make them main characters as well, shortly. 


	2. When Things Start Going Wrong

Chapter II  
  
The climbing was slow. Aya had been watching the trail and it's surrounding areas with extreme alertness, ready to dive again at the slightest sign. However, even if they hadn't had their guard so high up, they still would've been traversing slowly. The ground was slippery and switched between extremely muddy or rocky. Either way, advancing up the mountain wasn't easy. The water was coming down hard and already small rivers had formed next to their little deer path.  
  
"I never saw 'hiker' as a job description when signing up to become an assassin," Yohji grumbled miserably. "Do you have any idea what time it is, Aya? It's 6 o' clock in the fucking morning. Are you aware of the way I work when woken up before my given time? Here, I'll lay it out:  
  
From 5 o' clock-6 o'clock, I am the God of Evil. From 7-9 I'm a zombie, from 9-10 I'm simply incoherent and maybe if you're lucky and have a strong enough jolt of coffee waiting for me, you might be able get be to do something after 10 AM. But this traversing around a fuckin' mountain before the birds rise? It's not going to fly."  
  
"You've been up before 10 for work, Yohji-kun."  
  
"Only with lots of coffee."  
  
"You've been up at 8, too, for the flower shop."  
  
"There are girls though. Besides, it's not six, and it sure as hell isn't on a rainy mountain."  
  
"We need to get a good head start since we didn't get as far as we needed to yesterday," Aya explained patiently.  
  
"What are these time constraints? It's not like the guy is going anywhere."  
  
"We told you to pack a poncho."  
  
"Those things are so ugly," Yohji said vehemently.  
  
"We're on a mountain, as you've pointed out repeatedly, who's going to see you?"  
  
"It's a matter of personal pride."  
  
"Then if you didn't bring the poncho and it wasn't for a good reason, don't bitch about getting wet," Aya snapped from the front of line. Behind him, Omi twisted back to share a look with Ken. Already the elder two were getting on each other's nerves, which meant patience was going to be spread thin very quickly.  
  
The problem with Yohji, Omi mused, is that he didn't know when to stop.  
  
* * * *  
  
"The things we do when we're bored," Shuldich said in his nasal voice.  
  
"We're have to put up with them again," Nagi observed, "Why do they always attack the people we're supposed to be protecting?"  
  
"They're getting paid to be the knights in shining armor, the great Justice for the whole world, and we get paid to protect scum. Of course it's going to clash."  
  
"Yes, but we get paid well," Crawford interrupted from where he was reading his newspaper.  
  
"Did we really need to do the pendulum booby trap thing, Brad? Wasn't that a bit melodramatic?"  
  
"You already said it so well. 'The things we do when we're bored.' And don't call me Brad," the American finished on automatic response.  
  
"I wonder why Estet sent us all the way up here? I thought they needed us close to home, since we are their best team, after all."  
  
"The organization works in Mysterious Ways," Crawford said mockingly.  
  
"Don't let Farfarello catch you saying that. He'll go into another one of his rages."  
  
"I think I know what our dear Farfarello does, Nagi."  
  
"Speaking of the devil, where is he right now, anyway?"  
  
"Polishing his knives."  
  
"Again?"  
  
A shrug. "It keeps him interested and quiet. I wouldn't complain."  
  
"What's our next line of action, Crawford?"  
  
"Wait until they get here. I'm sure we'll come as quite of a surprise. How are you doing with their minds?"  
  
"Creating rifts between them is child's play. I'm almost insulted. The conditions are helping me out perfectly, too," Shuldich smirked.  
  
The three members of Schwartz were resting in a room of the small house that was set just off from the house where the man whom they were guarding was. They'd been hired and then air dropped onto the top of the mountain. The room they were in currently was covered wall-to-wall with video screens. Weiss had managed to underestimate their target, or someone had failed to do their homework because the drug lord had paid for the wiring and instillation of cameras all over his mountain and property. Weiss' hopes to be discreet by hiking in was a joke. Everything single thing they did was relayed by the cameras in the forest.  
  
"I think it's weird we never see our little computer drug lord," Nagi mused.  
  
"We have our own food and bathroom and now our own little Weiss play toys to keep us interested. Who cares if we never see the guy?"  
  
"Think we're going to kill them this time?"  
  
"But then we'll ruin all future fun with them."  
  
"It's cruel to keep toying with them."  
  
"No, we're just making them confident of themselves. We're all special, superhuman and all that. They're feeling good that they've never been permanently injured us. They think we're on the same level," Shuldich explained. Crawford looked up from his paper, eyebrows raised slightly.  
  
"They aren't really thinking that. They can't think they're that good."  
  
"Oh yeah."  
  
"I think I'm offended. Perhaps we should lower their confidence a bit this time."  
  
"Aye, aye, captain."  
  
* * * *  
  
They were all muddy and aching by now. They weren't used to climbing, so it was a strain on their muscles, and the path had become steeper now. The four of them were slipping and falling on a regular basis and out of all of them Omi seemed to be suffering the worst. More then one rock has gotten the best of his naked legs and he had large scratches all up and down the lower section of his body. The rain was coming down hard now, a harsh wind making the cold rain bite into their skin and chilling them to the bone. The trees creaked and groaned as they protested the violent wind. The sky was a dark gray and seemed to threaten that worse things were coming their way.  
  
"Aya! We can't stay out in the open like this!" Omi called over the wind to the team's leader.  
  
"We can't set up anywhere either, though," Ken said from behind him.  
  
"So what do you suggest we do?" Yohji demanded irritably from that back.  
  
"We have to keep going ahead. If we stay still, we'll be like sitting duck."  
  
"Ken-kun! It's dangerous to be out here!"  
  
"It'll be even worse if we settle under one of these trees. At least this way, we'll have less of a chance of being hit by falling limbs."  
  
"Actually, the chance is probably equal."  
  
"Look, I don't want to hear about it right now. Can the statistics, Omi."  
  
"How much longer do we have to hike, Aya?"  
  
The three members looked expectedly up at their leader. The group had paused the uphill climb as they waited for a response. Cold water dripped from all of them, the ponchos had done nothing for Ken and Omi except hinder them, so they had packed them up again. Yohji had been a bit smug on that point, because now he felt even better about not having packed it in the first place.  
  
They were all four absolutely miserable. They'd suffered through rain before, but never something that lasted so long, or seemed so concentrated. Not to mention the rain was cold and it was August. There wasn't supposed to be rain like that.  
  
Omi sniffled and rubbed absently at his nose while waiting a response from Aya, who was currently studying the GPS unit.  
  
"This doesn't make any sense," he finally said.  
  
"What?"  
  
"The GPS unit is acting haywire. It's not giving me any readings, and.shit!" Aya suddenly broke off, hitting his hand against the side of the little machine.  
  
"What's wrong?"  
  
"It just stopped working."  
  
"Is it out of batteries?"  
  
"That's impossible. Kritiker gave us brand new systems," Omi said.  
  
"Well something just happened."  
  
"You've got to be fucking kidding me," Yohji grumbled, pulling out his own unit from his sopping clothes. "Oh, this is just great."  
  
"Yours not working either?"  
  
"These things are pieces of shit!" Ken declared angrily, cursing the small thing.  
  
"This is like a nightmare or something."  
  
"The only thing to do now is keep going. I know where we're going."  
  
  
  
* * * *  
  
Nagi stared passively out the window. The storm seemed to have worsened severely in the last few minutes. The rain beat against the glass forming small rivulets down the side. As Nagi watched, the fast drops fell into large stable ones and together they collided into the windowsill. Nagi caught himself holding races between droplets as he waited to see which would hit the bottom first.  
  
He flinched slightly at the flash of lightning and the sound of thunder moments later. Thunder and lightning? This was new. There was hardly ever thunder and lightning with typhoons, which is what Nagi assumed this was. He hadn't been watching the weather lately, but rainy season was over, and this seemed more then just a passing summer storm.  
  
Also, it wasn't passing.  
  
The boy sighed. He was bored. It had gotten to the point where he was anticipating the arrival of Weiss. The team wasn't any sort of competition to his own team, but he was looking forward to smashing Bombay into a tree and hearing a few of his bones crack. At least then he could feel he got something out of this wait.  
  
Nagi glanced over at one of the cameras that showed where Weiss currently was. He was a little surprised to see that they were still climbing, despite the rough storm. Then again, it probably would've been near impossible to set up their tents with this wind. It was going to be hell for them come nightfall.  
  
Then again, maybe with a little luck they'd be able to make it this far.  
  
Crap. They seemed to be fighting again about something.  
  
"Shuldich! Stop messing with their minds. I want a fight. They could still make it here by tonight, and we can fight then. If they keep stopping to fight, they'll never make it."  
  
"I'm not doing anything. They're fighting on their own. Their GPS units are all broken."  
  
"So now they're going to get lost?"  
  
"I'm bored too, Nagi. I can suggest directions to Abyssinian and he'll take them without thinking anything is wrong."  
  
  
  
* * * *  
  
Brad Crawford couldn't see the future.  
  
Well, normally he could, but ever since they had been on this damn mountain, the future had been elusive. It was past annoying. Crawford took to looking at the future when he was bored, or just for reassurance about something or to check for warnings. Sometimes images came unbidden, but that had happened a lot before he knew how to control it. The last thing he had gotten was the route Weiss would be going on so that he could tell Farfarello and Shuldich where to set up the trap. But that had been before they had gotten on this mountain. Anyway, right now he couldn't get anything.  
  
The oldest member of Schwarz was suspicious. There had been times when he couldn't pick up the future before, but they'd been brief. This has lasted several days now, and he almost felt he should mention it to his teammates.  
  
Almost.  
  
But largely he felt it wasn't their problem yet. He was going to tell Shuldich tonight if things weren't better by then. It didn't seem to be a serious problem, though. He sighed, absently pushing his glasses up on his nose. This whole protection mission was annoying and seemed irrelevant to their job. Sure, they had protected Takatori, but that was for personal gain. The man had power and was on his way to the top. Unfortunately, he had been his own worst enemy and worked for his eventual downfall. Not to mention the team that had brought him down was personally involved and was going to revel at the spilling of his blood.  
  
When Crawford did something that pissed people off, he made sure that anyone left standing was dead, or would never be a threat. His only violation on this had been Weiss, but he had never considered them serious competition. It was hard to take the opposing team at face value, really.  
  
They were so perfectly angsty, Crawford mused as he considered the conversations he had had with Shuldich. It was part of what made them fun. They all obsessed over some great Bad Thing, and wouldn't let themselves alone about it. It was as if they believed that in order to be heroes and assassins, they had to be appropriately angsty and tortured by self-inflicted wounds. If everyone was as bad as they, the world wouldn't have to worry about overpopulation any longer. Half the population would have committed suicide.  
  
Crawford had lost people before. His family had been destroyed, but you didn't seem him obsessing over it. It was true, he wasn't the nicest guy, but he sure as hell had better things to do then be depressed all day.  
  
So Siberian had lost his best friend? So what? This wasn't anything special. Thousands of people lost best friends everyday because of time or because of some serious fight they had with one another. And then, some even lost friends to corruption like Ken had. Millions lost their jobs because of internal conflict or some other crime that they may or may not have taken part of. None of them had decided to become an assassin.  
  
So Balinese had lost a lover? Big fucking deal. Once again, nothing new here. What made that playboy think his case was the only one that ever existed? That he was the only one who suffered from the death of a lover? It was pitiful the way he lamented over his partner. People died. It happened all the time. But here he was, so involved and wrapped up in it as if he had been suffering his whole life.  
  
So Abyssinian's parents had been killed and his sister made a vegetable.? Alright, admittedly, the red head had a stronger case to be angsty and depressed. In just one night, just a few minutes really, his secure home life had been blown to bits, literally, and his younger sister had been tossed into the air like a rag doll by a car. Takatori had talked about the explosion of the bankers house quite fondly. It seemed he had taken great pride in the whole matter. Abyssinian wasn't really depressed though, so Crawford couldn't fault him there. He had become cold and brooding, that was true, but he had taken what had happened and formulated it until it had become something useful: hate. There was more to him then that, though, and that was something the American grudgingly respected. If he focused only on hate, he would've become as twisted as Farfarello. Instead he was the leader of Weiss, however how unwilling, and had a head for it.  
  
And then there was Bombay. The youngest of the group, he never had known anything outside of Kritiker and Weiss. His home life hadn't been much better though, as was proven when no one had agreed to pay a ransom on the young boy. Despite all this, he didn't dwell on it or hate the world because of it. From the few times he had been around the youngest member, it seemed he radiated true happiness and genuine feelings, instead of hiding behind some façade. It made Crawford wonder if the boy wasn't shallow, but the boy didn't come off that way. Shuldich could probably help him out, as far as digging to the psyche of their enemies, but that would show too much interest in such small potatoes. Anyway, it just gave him something to do when he was bored.  
  
It was amusing that Weiss was climbing up the mountain to what they thought would be an easy battle against a pasty little drug lord, and instead they would be facing down against Schwarz.  
  
* * * *  
  
Omi's legs hurt. It wasn't the pain of anything serious, but rather that stinging pain when you had thousands of superficial cuts, and rain and plants kept brushing against them. Omi couldn't blame anyone but himself, and even so, he wasn't obsessing over it. His legs hurt, true, but right now he was so absolutely exhausted that the pain was distant. They had been climbing for so long it seemed, and the storm wasn't getting any better. Omi had been watching the weather before they had left on the trip, and nowhere had he seen anything about a typhoon. Something this big would've been in the makings before they had left. It was disheartening to think they were going to have to climb back down through this mess. Hopefully by then things would be better. Or maybe they could wait the storm out at the house they were going to. It would be slightly morbid, but it had gotten to the point where Omi no longer cared. There was so much rain. Everything was soaked. Small rivulets of water ran down the side of his face, his eyelashes were stuck together, forming little triangles as the collected to one another. His hair was matted tightly to his head and dripped cold rain down his neck. Because of the severe wind and never ceasing rain, the ponchos had ended up doing nothing except make it even more miserable. Defeated, the boy had pulled it off, cursing it silently. The sooner they got to the top, the better. Omi wondered why Kritiker had sent them on this mission in the first place. Usually he agreed with whatever the organization had to say, but this was pushing it.  
  
Ken didn't feel Aya knew where he was going. He felt that the redhead had decided to take action, for better or for worse, and start making up directions as to where they were supposed to go. At least this way he wouldn't have lost face. At least, that's what the biker felt the case was. It wasn't like he'd been here before, or like they even had a recognizable trail to follow. It just seemed as if he was leading them onward, and it was disturbing.  
  
"Aya, do you know which way we're supposed to be going?" Ken finally asked, exasperated with the mountain and storm.  
  
"Up," Aya replied simply.  
  
"Oh fuck no. That answer isn't going to fly," Yohji interrupted. He had been harboring the same feelings as Ken but there a better solution hadn't been offered, and they did need to get somewhere where they could set up the tents.  
  
"He asked which way we're supposed to go, there it is."  
  
"Don't try to get all snippy and smart."  
  
"There's no way in hell you can know where we are going."  
  
"I think maybe you should shutup and follow. I know where we're going."  
  
"Oh yeah? How?"  
  
Omi sighed, tuning out his friends. They had been arguing off and on the whole trip, but since the destruction of all their GPS units, the fighting had intensified tenfold and was growing more heated. This whole trip was destructive to the team.but what did they say. "That which doesn't kill you makes you stronger."? In this case, it might be the team killing one another. They were definitely being pushed to their limit. Even during the best of times, the four occasionally lashed out at one another, with disagreements ranging beneath everything under the sun. Despite the occasional grating on nerves, they did work exceptionally well, and Omi liked to think they were all friends. It was times like these, however, that he doubted even that.  
  
"You ass! What do you think we're going to do? Swim?"  
  
"Ken, shutup," Yohji glared at the younger member, green eyes glittering dangerously. The animosity the two had shared the night before apparently hadn't diminished after a day of walking.  
  
"How about all you guys shutup?" Omi scowled. He was fed up with all this fighting. He rubbed a hand across his nose.  
  
"Look, we don't need any comments from you."  
  
"Yohji! Omi didn't do anything! Don't talk to him that way."  
  
"All I'm saying is that it's not his fight."  
  
"Like hell it isn't!" Omi broke in again, the volume of his voice raised a notch. "We're a team, if you didn't remember! We're supposed to be climbing up that mountain to fight that drug lord together. I don't want to get up there and realize I don't have anyone to back me up because we're all pissed off at one another over a tent or something."  
  
"We don't even know where we're going."  
  
"Up! Aya said it simply enough. There's not much else we can go, now is there? Maybe we can still get up there before nightfall. I don't know about the rest of you, but I want to get this guy as soon as I can, because then we can come off this mountain all the faster."  
  
"True."  
  
"So let's go!" Omi said, exasperated.  
  
* * * *  
  
Farfarello looked into the room where the drug lord was supposedly operating. He had grown bored with counting and polishing his knives and had felt a little exploring was in order. He felt a tinge of excitement. Weiss was coming! It was like an early Christmas present. He loved tearing them apart and watching the red blood drip from the wounds that he had caused. It was so interesting to watch the blood pool beneath them, watch their faces scrunch in pain. Pain was a concept Farfarello couldn't really comprehend, and the only thing he knew of it was a faint memory when he had found his parents. That had been a different pain, though. One of the soul, not of the flesh.  
  
Farfarello had to admit he was jealous of the pain others felt, and so the more he could make them feel it, the better he felt. He also knew that it hurt. A lot. And that caused him joy, too. The taking of a life was satisfying, too. God created the miracle of life, and Farfarello destroyed it just as quickly. Just one swipe of a blade in the right place and that was the end. It was even better though, when he could draw it out slowly, could watch his victim's face scrunch, could draw them out to just before they fell unconscious. This was the ultimate revenge on God. To make one of His creations suffer.  
  
But back to the room. There was no one there. Everything looked as it should. A computer, papers everywhere, general chaos and so forth. However, there was no drug lord, and it looked like he hadn't been there for a while.  
  
It also smelled.  
  
Farfarello stepped into the room. He knew that smell. It was the sweet smell of death. It also smelt like something that had been there for a while. The Irishman scanned the room slowly until he found what he wanted.  
  
Nagi was on his one thousand two hundred and sixty-first race when Farfarello came into the room. Nagi looked over with a bored expression on his face, wondering what the crazy Irishman wanted.  
  
"He's dead."  
  
Nagi began paying more attention. This could become interesting. "Who's dead?" Crawford asked.  
  
"The person we're supposed to be protecting."  
  
"Huh?" Crawford stood up from his place at the table, his cool lost for just a moment. Shuldich looked surprised at the news, too.  
  
"He's been dead a while. God killed him."  
  
"Show us."  
  
Without saying anything, Farfarello turned and led them out.  
  
* * * *  
  
Wearily the four members of Weiss trudged on through the rain and trees. It was slowly becoming darker, and Aya was searching for a place to set up camp. It seemed they would not be lucky enough to find the house tonight. Not as if they would be strong enough if the lord had any sort of guard. Omi had considered it highly unlikely, but they hadn't ruled it out. Just as Aya was about to call it quits, he caught a gold glitter a fair bit above them. He had been idly searching the mountain above them to make sure it was safe and that there weren't any loose rocks above, but he hadn't expected to be this lucky. Aya grinned internally. It looks like this mission would be over before they thought. "If you guys are willing to push it a little longer, it's only a little more of a climb and we're there."  
  
The other members of Weiss looked up. "Score!" Ken whooped. "Let's do it!"  
  
"I'm going to make this painful," Yohji smiled grimly, green eyes narrowed.  
  
Spirits raised, the four began the steeper climb to the top.  
  
* * * *  
  
"Why didn't you see this?" Shuldich demanded of Crawford. The American responded in silence. Shuldich narrowed his eyes, knowing it wouldn't do any good until Crawford decided he wanted to say something. After a few moments the American finally spoke.  
  
"Ever since we have been on this mountain, my ability has been blocked," Crawford responded.  
  
"When were you planning on telling us?"  
  
"When it became your business."  
  
"I think when you can't see the death of our job, it becomes our business."  
  
"I wasn't aware," Crawford said simply, as if that summed everything up.  
  
Shuldich cursed in German. Dealing with the American was impossible. While he didn't really care about the well being of who they were supposed to be protecting, and he didn't care about the American or his well being, he DID like to know a little of what was going on. Upon occasion, anyway.  
  
"I think we should be more concerned with how he ended up dead in the first place," Nagi broke in before the two could get into a full fledged fight. After a final share of glares, Brad and Shuldich broke away the fighting to examine the body.  
  
"I'm not a doctor, but I think it could be the bullet hole in his head," Shuldich said smartly.  
  
"Did he commit suicide?"  
  
"There's no gun. Why didn't we hear the shot?"  
  
"It looks like he's been dead a while. Before we even got here."  
  
"Why hadn't any of us checked.?"  
  
"Because it's not our business to what he was doing. We only needed to talk to him when something came up."  
  
"Well, fuck."  
  
The ponderings of Schwarz were suddenly interrupted at the sound of scuffling and the rush of Abyssinian through the door, quickly followed by Bombay and the crashing of Siberian as he came through the window, Yohji standing outside in the rain, his arm up, posed to let loose the wire. The four stopped however in dead surprise however when they saw the dead man on the floor and Schwarz standing around him.  
  
"Schwarz!"  
  
"Weiss. How nice of you to come."  
  
  
  
~End Chapter II~  
  
Hello everyone! ^^ This is shaping up to be possibly one of the longest stories I've ever done. It depends on how my interest maintains in it, but so far it's fueled and there's a lot I want to do with it. You know, I realized I need/want a Beta reader. If there's anyone out there who would be willing to help, I'd appreciate it. Just e-mail or IM me, please! 


	3. Unexpected Moves

The Gods Would Laugh Chapter III Disclaimers: Have I mentioned anytime recently that none of this belongs to me? Well, maybe a tree does. Er, or something. Notes: I've decided there's definitely going to be shounen ai here. I'm going to build up to it, though. Things like that just don't happen over night, you know!  
  
Ken was pissed. Schwarz appearing on this mountain definitely changed everything. Here he was, ready for a quick kill and then maybe kicking back and chilling in this house while waiting for the rain to go, maybe enjoy some of the provisions (Anything beat MRI's) before going home. (After all, with this much money, the guy had to have a well-stocked fridge, right?) His spirits had been lifted by the lack of any sort of guards or defense, and for a minute, things seemed to have really been looking up.  
  
Then reality had to kick in.  
  
Their target was already dead, which Ken supposed was a good thing, but it was Schwarz that had killed him. Even if their interests had been the same on this mission, it didn't matter. They were still going to fight. They always fought. It was a sort of tradition now. Sure, Ken didn't really mind that. Fighting was good for the soul, and he did hate them. He couldn't deny that. He hated how they were so smug and holier-then-thou. (Maybe that was the wrong word to use, but the term fit.) More then anything, he hated Farfarello. He always got paired up with the Irish man. Not only did he hate him, but there was always a small bit of primal fear that filled his soul when he fought. Farfarello enjoyed killing and causing pain. How were you supposed to win against someone who didn't feel and didn't care what you did to them? Ken imagined fighting zombie's were much the same way. He had seen Resident Evil. He knew that the bastards kept coming back and back. Damn, what if Farfarello really was dead?! Ken wouldn't be surprised, that was for sure.  
  
Also, Farfarello licked his knives, and that was disturbing, too. Ken had always wondered if he had ever cut his tongue. What if he cut his tongue off? Would he notice? The Irishman didn't feel pain, so.  
  
So anyway, here they were: the White and the Black. In their world there were never shades of gray. The only way this night would end was in a fight. Maybe this would be the one where someone finally died.  
  
Ken fell into his fighting stance with the sigh of one who knew he had to accept his fate.  
  
  
  
The two teams hesitated. They had no reason to go against one another. Their paths just had happened to cross. Aya's eyes strayed to the body of their target. The man looked to have been dead a while. It was obvious the other team hadn't just killed him, but what were they doing, standing around him like that? Why hadn't they disposed of his body yet? The whole room stank of death, and that suggested that the dead man had been in here for more then just a few minutes.  
  
Aya's ponderings were brought to a quick halt when Ken and Farfarello launched simultaneously at one another. Cursing silently, he knew he had to fight now. Sighting out Crawford, he gave him a quick salute and launched into battle.  
  
While their teammates were fighting around them in a deadly dance, Nagi and Omi had only locked eyes. Omi was not looking forward to this battle. There was nothing he could do against the telekinetic. Besides, he had no grudge against him. He hadn't been there when Ouka died and he had never instigated anything. In fact, out of all of them, he was the only one whom he had ever seen compassion in, for that member of Schreient, no less.  
  
Omi was beginning to feel Nagi might be feeling the same and would agree not to fight, but then he felt the familiar surge of energy. In a futile effort, he threw his hands up in a X-block across his face. He was thrown back a few paces, and just as he felt a lull in Nagi's pushing, he darted forward, throwing the darts that were already in his hand. He didn't have to be Crawford to know these weren't going to hit, and with a certain accepted detachment he watched as Nagi calmly blocked his attack. Turning cobalt blue eyes to that of his enemy he suddenly tried to dodge. Midway in the air he was caught and thrown violently back into the desk. Omi felt the wood splinter around him and the computer monitor fall with a crash onto him. Struggling, he tried to climb up and move away. Nagi walked calmly toward him. In a desperate move he dove towards the nearby door and began running as fast as his legs could carry him. If he was going to win, he was going to have to take Nagi by surprise. Running through the hallway, he looked for somewhere he could hide. He caught sight of another door, opened just a crack. Glancing back, he made sure Nagi hadn't made it to the hallway yet. Feeling a shiver down his spine as he realized he was being stalked like an animal, and not taken as a serious opponent, he slowly opened the door and stepped in. Hopefully this would give him a moment of surprise when he launched at Nagi. All he needed was a second throw his darts. That would be enough.  
  
Aya was surprised when a stab at Crawford actually hit flesh. He tried not to show his amazement, but he had never ever gotten a hit on the American. His opponent usually used his precognitive ability to see where the next attack was coming from. Here he was, however, grabbing at his shoulder, blood welling up between his fingers. Crawford caught the look on Aya's face and smirked.  
  
"Congratulations."  
  
Aya stood for a moment, confused. Crawford had been knocked down from his untouchable perch that Aya had unconsciously put him on. Yet, here the man stood, smirking at him as if this wound was nothing. And it was true, it really was nothing to be proud of. Suddenly Crawford's eyes darted away, and Aya turned slowly, wary of a trick. He caught sight of Omi dashing through the door. Behind him Nagi walked calmly with the attitude of one who knows quite well his opponent isn't any challenge, but is getting a kick out of it anyway. It reminded Aya of a cat and the way it would spend time with it's food, playing with it before killing it. Turning back to engage in combat once more, feeling the lull had been long enough, he saw Crawford's brow crinkle. "I have a bad feeling." He turned back to Aya. "We'll have to put this battle on hold, yet again," The American said shortly before turning and running after where the two youngest members had gone. Confused, but also worried about the well being of Omi with two Schwarz after him, he followed.  
  
Shuldich abruptly broke away from Yohji, having just knocked away an incoming wire. He tilted his head to the side. "My dear Balinese. it seems there are other matters I must pertain to," he focused again on Yohji with one of his grins playing on his face. Without another word, he jumped away and bounded down the hall where Yohji had caught Aya and Crawford escaping scant seconds earlier. Confused, but not one to be left behind, Yohji wound in his wire and quickly followed suit.  
  
"Oi! Yohji! Wait!" Ken glanced out of the corner of his eyes in the middle of a block, and quickly realized he and the madman were alone. Catching the eye of the Irishman Ken said quickly, "Our teammates." Farfarello studied him a moment before nodding, though if it was because what he had said, or because the Irishman had gotten some signal from another of Schwarz, he wasn't sure. Nevertheless, Farfarello went towards the door, Ken on his heel.  
  
Omi's face was cut in numerous places from where the glass from the monitor had torn his flesh. The door he had opened had ended up being another door to the outside, and Omi realized that hiding in the dark and the rain would be a better way to catch the telekinetic by surprise. As he waited, rain mixed with blood formed a pink liquid that ran down his face and through his eyes. Aya would probably feel what he done was cowardly, but he had fought Nagi on even grounds before, and he had always lost and painfully. He hadn't been having any luck in the cramped computer room, so maybe here in the trees where Nagi couldn't see him, Omi would have at least a temporary advantage. . The dark of night, which had just fallen, would be an asset as well. Eyes darting back and forth quickly, he found an outcropping of rock and dove behind it just as Nagi came through the door. He was quite surprised, however, when Crawford and then Aya rushed out as well. In the floodlights from the house, Omi saw a dark splotch of blood on the American's shoulder. Crawford called to Nagi, walking up to him briskly. The two began conversing in what seemed to be a hurried manner. What was going on? Omi's attention was suddenly drawn to the appearance of Yohji and Shuldich and then Farfarello and Ken rushing through the door scant moments lately. None of them were fighting. Something weird was definitely going on. Hesitantly Omi stood up and began making his way towards where the rest of his team and Schwarz were gathered. As he made his way over, he suddenly stumbled and fell. Grimacing he pushed himself up, looking back at the culprit. He blanched suddenly when he saw that instead of a wayward root, he had tripped over a body on its back, the eyes widened in what seemed to be horror. Omi let out a small cry.  
  
To his surprise, it was Crawford who came up next to him. Omi scrambled to his feet, looking warily over at the older American. "A bodyguard," The American said simply. His face was wound up in one of slight confusion and annoyance. Omi watched Crawford study the dead man. The man had a completely flat affect. Omi considered himself pretty good at reading people, but any hints at what this man was thinking were elusive. Was he this impenetrable to his teammates, too? Then again, he supposed, Aya could be compared to this one. Hmm, maybe not. Aya had more emotion than THIS. Absently, Omi noted a roaring noise that seemed to be growing louder. Turning from Crawford, Omi looked over to his teammates.  
  
"Do you hear-"  
  
"Watch out!" Nagi suddenly called, interrupting Omi. Blue eyes darting to Nagi, he saw what he was looking at and turned his gaze towards where Nagi was standing. Omi's mouth dropped open as he saw a huge wall of water quickly descending upon all of them.  
  
"FUCK!" Yohji shouted. It was the last thing said before the water suddenly engulfed them all.  
  
As the water grabbed him, Omi reached out blindly to grab onto anything. It was instinctual and the chances of him finding anything were low, so when he felt something solid beneath his grasp he was pleasantly surprised. Of course, these thoughts were running through his subconscious, but when he felt something beneath his grip he tightened his hand around it, not willing to let go for anything. Fear had seeped into the core of his soul as he was caught in the tumult of water. He couldn't even begin to fathom where the wall of water had come from or how he was going to survive. He couldn't begin to tell where the surface was, and he began to doubt if there was one. Around him trees and other debris rushed by and he felt something slam into him-or maybe he slammed into it-knocking what little breath he had out of him. With a last kick born out of desperation, Omi suddenly found himself on the surface and with a relief he had never knew before he brought in great gulps of air. With his free hand, for his other still had a death grip on the thing he had grabbed at the start, he grabbed for something floating or something stable that would keep him up before he was sucked under again. Gritting his teeth he pulled himself onto a limb that was coasting down the rapids. With his one arm he held onto the driftwood with a death grip. Now that he had made it to relative safety he had the presence of mind to see what he had grabbed at the beginning.  
  
"Crawford," Omi gasped, staring at the unconscious American. Pulling Crawford further up on the large limb, Omi felt quickly for a pulse and felt his heart sink when there was none. Looking around desperately, he saw the opposite bank wasn't far away. Kicking as hard as he could, he slowly made his way towards it. His energy was low and the water fought against him but, albeit quite a few feet down from where he had initially planned. Exhausted although he was, he quickly pulled the leader of Schwarz from the water, checking his pulse and bringing his head near his nose to try to hear breathing, his head faced towards Crawford's chest, trying to detect any sign of breathing. Finding none he turned back, tilted the unconscious American's head back, pinched his nose and held his mouth open, and breathed into it. From there he began the compressions on the chest, trying to force the heart to restart. How many was he supposed to do for CPR? 12, wasn't it? Or was it 15? Frantic, he counted off 12 (did it matter THAT much?) before checking the pulse and breath again. Omi clenched his teeth, what if he was too late? He repeated his actions from before and was nearing despair when Crawford suddenly gave a shuddering cough and spat up water. Omi sighed in relief, watching Crawford carefully as the consequences of his actions caught up with him. He had saved his life, but now what? Crawford breathed in deeply after a few attempts. He had lost his glasses in the flood, and that seemed to give him a softer appearance. As he floated back to consciousness he winced slightly, hand automatically going to his shoulder. After several almost panicked attempts for air, (As if anything Crawford did was panicked, Omi mused) he finally managed to fall into a normal breathing rhythm. After handling all the affairs that went on inside his body, he turned his gaze to where Omi was crouching next to him.  
  
"Bombay."  
  
The two stared at one another as they measured up the situation. What could Omi say in return? He had just saved his enemy's life did Crawford realize that? Omi had to get out of here. He had to find the rest of the team. Would Crawford be willing to meet a temporary truce?  
  
  
  
* * * *  
  
When the water came down, Nagi had instinctively thrown out a telekinetic shield that caused the water to crash down harmlessly around him. It involved intense concentration, but as long as he wasn't disturbed, it wouldn't be a problem. Nagi wondered idly where this river of water had come from. He HAD noticed they were in a slight valley, but this amount of water this close to the top of the mountain was odd. Unless there had been lots of snow that had melted suddenly, there was almost no explanation for it. Maybe some sort of damn had broken? Nagi began working out his next course of action when he realized he felt someone else in the bubble with him. Turning warily, he discovered- much to his annoyance- Balinese. As their eyes met, the playboy suddenly grinned.  
  
"Nice play there, Schwarz. I appreciate the bubble. Great view," Yohji said agreeably. And it was true, there was a great view of the rushing water and the debris that sped by. "I'd also like to thank you for killing our target."  
  
"We didn't. He was dead before we even got there. We were supposed to protect him."  
  
"Bloody good job you did."  
  
"You can't protect someone who's already dead," Nagi shrugged.  
  
"A philosopher at heart, I see."  
  
"Is all of Weiss like this?"  
  
"What do you think?"  
  
"I think I can see what Abyssinian becomes so irritated with you."  
  
"You spy on us?"  
  
"Only when you're displaying yourselves all over the cameras as you hiked up the mountains."  
  
"You're bull shitting me."  
  
"No. It was quite humorous to watch you take all those precautionary actions, too. So much for being alert. Never even noticed the cameras," Nagi smirked. Yohji looked over at him, his brow furrowed in annoyance.  
  
"Damnit."  
  
"Heh."  
  
"Well.while I appreciate this view, I would absolutely love to step onto the land above."  
  
Nagi shot Balinese a look of annoyance. He didn't need to be told what to do. After a moments hesitation, however, he looked for the walls and began the short climb out. Balinese was now disturbingly close, and Nagi glared back at the tall blonde. "Woah there. No need to get offended. It's just my personal preference to walk closer to the one holding up this shield then farther."  
  
"If I wanted to, I could drop the shield so it protected only me, and then it wouldn't matter where you stood," Nagi replied coldly. "I'm strong enough to hold up a little water, but unless you want to try my patience even more which might cause for a slip in my concentration, I suggest you stand back."  
  
"Don't get so testy," Balinese replied. Nagi noted with a note of satisfaction however, that the member of Weiss stepped back a few paces.  
  
* * * *  
  
Shuldich washed up on the shore of the river, coughing and sputtering violently. He had managed to drag himself out of the water and now here he was, on his hands and knees, bringing in huge gulps of air as his lungs allowed it. How he had survived the turbulent trip through the water he wasn't sure. His muscles ached from the strain he had put on them, but besides the ache from his muscles and minor bruises and scratches he had taken from passing blows of debris, there didn't seem to be any serious injuries. As the German began to calm down, he realized he was going to have to reach out and locate everyone else. The total lack of injuries somewhat confused the German. Because of the rush of water and the velocity at which things had been carried through, Shuldich counted himself lucky not to have been impaled by a branch. The fact that he had escaped virtually unscathed was incredibly lucky. Shuldich grinned suddenly. Maybe Farfarello WAS right. Maybe the devil was protecting them, just to spite God. Of course, Shuldich didn't really believe in all that God business, but someone was definitely spiting someone on this.  
  
Still, the German wished whoever was trying to get rid of them would get off this drowning fetish. This was the second time they'd almost drowned.  
  
The sudden water completely baffled the German. They were far enough up the mountain that there should have been no cause for so much water to come rushing down at them. Just before the wall of water had come too, he had felt something. It had been a sort of influx in psychological power, almost akin to Nagi's. He wondered idly if the two were connected.  
  
As Shuldich caught his breath, he took in his surroundings. He had washed up on the same side of the bank from where they had all been torn. The water rushed by him now, and he watched it with the same amusement that he held everything in. Trees of all sorts surrounded him, and they came up close to the bank. Several were leaning over the water, threatening to tumble. Their stretching root systems clung to thin air, and as Shuldich looked around, he got the impression that the dirt had been ripped away from them abruptly. Because of the moist ground and lack of support, already some of the trees had begun to slant. Shuldich frowned. Not only was this weird, but things hadn't gone as planned. Why hadn't Crawford warned them of this? Shuldich noted this as something he was going to have to harass the American on later.  
  
If he was alive.  
  
The prospect that his teammates might be dead had just occurred to him, and the more he thought about it, he realized the prospect that at least one of his teammates was dead was fairly large. After a moment, Shuldich found himself feeling out for the rest of Schwarz. He had been with them for so long that their signatures were familiar, and even if he couldn't paw through their minds, he knew what they felt like. He detected Nagi first.  
  
~Yo, Chibi.~  
  
~Do you know what happened to the others?~  
  
~Found you first~  
  
~I have Balinese with me.~  
  
Shuldich chuckled.  
  
~He's a pain in the ass.~  
  
~I'm not surprised. You haven't killed him yet?~  
  
~You know we decided not to kill Weiss. Besides, something is wrong with this whole situation. Contact Crawford. ~  
  
~Now you're telling me what to do, too? You've been hanging out with our dear leader entirely too much.~ Nevertheless, Shuldich cut the connection with the teenager and began searching for Crawford. Just as he felt the signature the defined the American, something seemed to come up and physically grab Shuldich's psyche, sending it roughly back into his body. The German stumbled back, grabbing his head.  
  
What the FUCK! Shuldich cursed. This could end up turning into one of those huge migraines. He didn't need one of those right now! Keeping a type grasp on his head, as if that would help him at all, he stumbled back into a tree and slumped against it. Where had that come from? Shuldich groaned as the migraine came on in full swing.  
  
* * * *  
  
Aya swam in a world of black. He had been unconscious enough times to know that he was slowly fighting his way back to the world of living, but it was a painful climb. The same moment the water had hit him, a wayward limb, or some other form of debris had slammed into his left arm. The rest of the ride down the river was hazy, and even now the redhead wasn't certain how he had managed to not drown. The pain was more intense now, which Aya took as a sign to being conscious. Slowly, he opened his eyes. It was night, and through the trees he could see tiny pinpricks of light. Apparently the storm had finally blown over. Despite this relief, he realized that though it was August, it was fairly cold. With a slight groan, he pulled himself into a sitting position. His arm protested, sending a wave of nausea through him.  
  
Aya glanced around warily. Where was he? How far had the water washed him down? First and foremost in Aya's mind was the need to find something warm, or at least keep from becoming frozen. All he had, however, was his sodden jacket. As he shifted his position, the dead leaves beneath him rustled softly.  
  
Leaves.  
  
Aya picked up a handful, looking at them for a moment. With his good arm he formed a pile of wet leaves. After he had what he thought was a sufficient amount, he pulled them over his body. Hopefully this would provide the insulation he needed. There wasn't he could do anything until morning, anyway.  
  
As Aya lay in the leaves, looking up at the cold sky above him through tiny gaps in the tree branches, he pondered how they had gotten there and what would happen to the team. He hoped they had all survived, and he acknowledged the possibility that the last fight with Schwarz was the last time he would fight side by side with them. Every time they had gone to a mission, this knowledge was present somewhere in his mind. It was a big part with why it took so long for him to be just a little less cold, a little more accepting to his teammates. How could you be nice when you knew there was the chance they were going to die at every moment? Why grow attached when you knew they could be ripped away at any moment? It was pointless.  
  
Then when he wasn't looking his loneliness and the basic human want for companionship had won, and he had somehow grown fond of his teammates. He knew them better then anyone else ever would. He knew their quirks and their habits, had been with them long enough to realize certain things, and now they could be dead. He had never imagined it would be like that. Then again, you never did.  
  
* * * *  
  
Brad Crawford wasn't in a good mood. Of course, the rigid American really never was, but it would be fair to say his mood today was worse then usual. Granted, he had more then one reason to be pissed. His precognitive power still hadn't come back to him, and that alone would be basis to be sour. However, compounded to this was the fact that something had gone on back at the drug lord's house that he didn't understand, he'd lost his glasses and couldn't see a damn thing, AND his teammates had been washed away in the flood that had taken place during their fight with Weiss. He didn't even want to think about Bombay, because he had a sneaking suspicion the young Weiss boy had saved him from drowning. Of course, his shoulder was also bothering him, and the fact that Abyssinian had gotten a hit on him bit into his pride.  
  
Crawford frowned deeply. This wasn't a situation he wanted to be in. He wasn't in charge of it and he didn't like that. He couldn't direct it to where he wanted it to go or if the actions he were taking would be beneficial to the future.  
  
Crawford paused for a moment. He had never realized how dependent he had become on his ability to see into the future. Sighing internally, he shot a look over at Bombay. The boy was sitting huddled against a tree trunk, and from what he could make out, his arms were wrapped around his naked knees, head resting on it. No doubt the boy was freezing. After all, he was only wearing shorts. It was cold for an August night, but then, the recent weather had been anything but normal.  
  
Crawford couldn't understand the Weiss boy. "Why did you save me?" He finally asked bluntly. Bombay raised his head from his knees and met Crawford's steady gaze.  
  
"You were drowning."  
  
Crawford frowned. That whole matter had wounded his pride. Still, Bombay hadn't really answered the question. Crawford wasn't going to let him go until he did. The boy stared back, and Crawford thought he was going to have to pry answers when his opponent spoke again.  
  
"I couldn't let you drown. You can't die like that."  
  
"You know that I wouldn't have done the same for you?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And that by doing this, you've possibly forfeited both your own life and the rest of your team?"  
  
"Yes." A pause. "But it wouldn't have been right to let you go."  
  
Crawford blinked. It suddenly dawned on him that this boy had a conscience and morals. How could that ever happen? He was an assassin. He'd been trained as one from an early age. All things considered, Bombay SHOULD'VE been a cold and ruthless killer, brainwashed from the start. Crawford knew that wasn't the case, and he wondered who had failed so miserably in Kritiker to have produced THIS. An assassin with compassion was a failure.  
  
Bombay sniffled. Was the boy crying? That wouldn't make any sense.unless he was getting sick. Crawford didn't need to deal with that. The American hated sick people. Somehow, getting sick seemed to be a show of weakness. Crawford couldn't stand that.  
  
"I think we should stay here, at least until morning. I want to give the sun a chance to dry out my clothes. We should also try to reunite with our teams," Bombay broke Crawford's musing. The American looked at the Weiss boy evenly. Once again, Bombay returned it. It seemed the boy wasn't as much as a pushover as he first thought. His bright and genki attitude could be put aside when needed, it seemed. Crawford could respect that. "Can you get in contact with the rest of your team?"  
  
"That's not my ability," Crawford answered shortly.  
  
"I know, but I thought as a team, you might have some sort of link or- "  
  
Crawford waved his hand slightly, as if signifying the end of the discussion. He did not want to talk about the rest of this team.  
  
The two sat in the dark beneath the wet trees silently. Bombay had started to sniffle constantly, and Crawford's shoulder had begun to seriously pain him. Unconsciously he lifted his hand to his shoulder and grasped it tightly, hoping to numb the pain. He needed to clean and wrap it up. The last thing he needed was an infected wound. He touched around the wound gingerly as he frowned deeply. Ignoring Bombay, he slowly took his jacket off as not to aggravate the wound too badly. He didn't allow the Weiss boy to know this movement caused him pain which doubled as he peeled his collared shirt of the sticky sword wound.  
  
* * * *  
  
Farfarello couldn't remember when he had first started liking knives. It was an obsession that seemed to go back as long as he remembered. He liked the way they glittered, and the way blood stuck to the blades. Knives, and swords for that matter, were works of arts that most people simply didn't appreciate. To temper the blade until it was exactly as you wanted took immense skill. Back at the Schwarz penthouse, Farfarello had quite a collection. All cultures had their versions of the sword. There were scimitars and rapiers, and the katana, just to count a few. Farfarello also appreciated the cruel genius of some of the people who had created weapons. The knife that you plunged into someone and then pressed a button, enabling the blade to open up inside your opponents stomach, so what when you pulled it out, you took their guts out with it. Yes, these were things Farfarello truly appreciated.  
  
It was with this in mind as he stared at the red haired member of Weiss Kreuz, the so-called leader. Ran had jumped to his feet-albeit a bit stiffly-at hearing Farfarello's arrival. He stood now shakily, katana grasped tightly in his right hand. He had his left arm held tightly to his chest, and his whole face was pale and held the look of someone who was in intense pain.  
  
Pain.  
  
Farfarello was jealous.  
  
The urge to fight was strong, but there wouldn't be any fun in it. A crippled kitten. The two faced off for a moment before Farfarello suddenly broke his fighting stance and stood straight. "Nice sword."  
  
Abyssinian stared at him.  
  
  
  
* * * *  
  
Shuldich was just getting over his migraine. The German had his back pressed up against a tree and was only now slowly letting go of the tight grip on his head. Damn, but he missed his drugs. The German was prone to migraines because of the nature of his powers. Sometimes the voices were overwhelming, so he had some specially issued drugs to take him out for the day. It had been a long time since he had suffered such severe backlash, and he couldn't remember having suffered like that because of a match in mental power since Rosenkreuz. Shuldich paused. This definitely wasn't a good thing. When had they gotten an enemy that matched them in powers?  
  
Shuldich tentatively reached out again, but not for Crawford. Not yet. He searched for Farfarello first. He quickly found the stirrings of the chaotic mind and touched it mentally.  
  
~Farfie.~  
  
~Shuldich.~  
  
~Faired well, I imagine?~  
  
~I'm not dead. God is still sad,~ Farfarello replied in his usual manner.  
  
~Found anything?~  
  
~A broken kitten. The red haired one.~  
  
~Abyssinian. What's wrong with him?~  
  
~A broken arm. He still has some fight.~  
  
~Don't kill him.~  
  
~No,~ Farfie paused, ~not yet, anyway. Have you reached out leader?~  
  
~Something's blocking me.~  
  
~Competition. Not the kittens?~  
  
~No. Yo Farf, we're going to need to get Nagi and join up. We'll go from there.~  
  
There was a sound of agreement on Farfarello's side, and then the madman went silent.  
  
And that was it. It seemed like he would be the one in charge until they found Crawford.  
  
Shuldich sighed dramatically. Him? In charge of the team? That was absolutely ridiculous! Oh, the things life just had to throw at him! It looked like he was going to have to put up with a bit of what the American had to deal with on a daily basis. However, the German decided he was NOT going to be such a stuck up ass about it. That whole sticks-in-ones-ass thing was largely an American thing, anyway. No, come to think of it, it was largely an English-as-the-primary-language thing. There were a lot of anal British, too. Shuldich concluded that the reason they were like that was probably because they didn't drink enough beer.  
  
It was while Shuldich was contemplating beer that the sun had finally begun to rise, casting the woods into that dusky color of in-between times. Had Shuldich been paying more attention, he would've noticed the shadows in the woods shift unnaturally. He would have noticed one of the shadows actually unattached itself from its surroundings and begin a quiet stalking of the German.  
  
  
  
~End Chapter III~  
  
Hmmm, hope this chapter wasn't slow or anything! Lol, and btw! I don't personally have anything against British, so don't flame me! This chapter was a little (a page!) longer then the two previous. I'm trying to keep all the chapters around 12 pages for you guys! Reading short chapters makes me somewhat sad, because I know I have to wait a long time sometimes for another update, and I want to read NOW, damnit! Not that I'm complaining to people who DO write short chapters. I've been known to do the same thing. I like to generate more reviews that way! But reviews really aren't everything (something I'm coming to learn) and people can still appreciate without writing anything. Besides, I like to write! So, hope you liked this chapter! I'll come out with the next one as soon as possible! 


	4. Of Lighting Fires and Patching Wounds

Hello, everyone! Here's chapter IV! Aren't you all PROUD of me? I wrote this really fast! Well, even if you aren't proud of me, I'm proud of myself! I want to give a big thanks to my best friend Miriam. She's really encouraged me and gives good reviews! I know she's happy when she says 'Ye@!"  
  
So anyway, she's also a really good artist, so make sure to visit her site here: http://k1kerosene.f2o.org/ We're getting our own domain sometime soon, and I'll make sure to let you know when THAT happens. I'll be putting all my stories, plus tons of other random stuff there. So anyway, without further ado.  
  
Chapter IV Of starting fires and patching wounds  
  
Disclaimers: Nothing's changed since last chapter. I still don't own these guys. Oh, but if I could.if I could.  
  
  
  
  
  
Ken sat against a tree, arms resting limply on either side of him as he breathed as slowly as he could. He had only just woken up from where he had collapsed, and was amazed he hadn't frozen to death. Ken winced at both the pain in his chest and the golden rays of the early morning sun piercing his eyes. As he shifted around, he instantly regretted the position he had fallen asleep in because now, not only were his ribs sore, but his back was also.  
  
Ken didn't appreciate this. Not at all.  
  
Groping the edge of the tree, he slowly pulled himself up. If his ribs weren't broken, then they were at least severely bruised. Something had hit him in that mad rush of water, and while Ken wasn't sure what it had been, he knew he hated it. Breathing as shallowly as he could, he accessed the situation. With a groan, Ken realized that not only did he not know where he was, but all of the stuff in his cargo pants had been ripped from him too. He hadn't been awake five minutes yet, and Ken had already decided today was going to be one of Those days.  
  
It was while he was being grim that he heard a shout in German. Instantly Ken's mood brightened. German meant Shuldich. Shuldich meant a fight. Sure, he was injured, but killing a Schwarz member always seemed to fix things. Ken grinned, albeit a little darkly and began a slow walk towards where he had heard the sound. His fist clenched automatically, causing the claws to extend from the gloves on his hand. Miraculously enough, the bugnucks on his right hand had managed to stay on.  
  
As he trudged on, his shoes made a squishing sound with every step, and while hid clothes had progressed from that dripping stage, they were still uncomfortably damp. The closer (or so he hoped) he made it to the German, the more he began to compound the blame on the unassuming redhead. Finally it got to the point where Ken felt that virtually everything that had happened could be blamed on the German.  
  
Ken clenched his fist again. He was ready for blood.  
  
* * * *  
  
Yohji was currently a happy person. When Weiss had gone to attack the drug lord, they had left all their equipment far enough away that the flood hadn't gotten in. Now, while the rest of the team coped with being wet, tired, and injured, Yohji was warm, dry, and well rested. All thanks to his big old sleeping bag. Of course, Yohji felt it was owed to him, what after all he had had to put up with.  
  
Even Schwarz seemed to be in a better mood. Yohji, being the diplomatic man he was, had found Omi's bag and had thrown some of his clothes in Schwarz's general direction. The boy had taken the garments without comment, but seemed to be in a better mood because of it. As Yohji idly watched the Schwarz boy, he realized that the two had come to some sort of truce. This was fine with the blond, on the basis that he didn't feel like fighting. Especially when it meant being slammed into a tree. Anyway, there were other things that were currently more important, such as finding the other members of his team. Yohji considered exactly how to go about this when Nagi broke his concentration.  
  
"Shuldich is alive," he said with utter confidence.  
  
"What'd he say?"  
  
"He's alive and trying to get the rest of the team together."  
  
"Did he say anything about my team?"  
  
"No."  
  
Not allowing this information to upset or disturb him, Yohji finished packing away the sleeping bag and started making his way towards where the house, well parts of it anyway, lay. Yohji refused to believe his teammates were dead, so until he got evidence either way he was going to do something productful, such as searching for clues. There HAD to be something to tip him off towards something. There had been more then one dead person around, and while Yohji wasn't sure about what Mother Nature had been up to, he DID know a little about homicides. He HAD been a Private Detective, once upon a time. The Schwarz kid stepped up beside him, coolly surveying the ruins before them.  
  
"You're not expecting to find anything here," the kid said. It was a statement, not a question.  
  
"I was a private detective. If anyone can find something, I can," Yohji said a bit cockily. Schwarz looked over at him oddly. Yohji decided to ignore it.  
  
"There's nothing here. It's all been obliterated. You'll be wasting your time."  
  
"How long had he been dead?" Yohji said suddenly, waving Schwarz's comment away.  
  
"Longer then we'd been on this mountain," the Japanese boy eventually responded. This was ridiculous.  
  
"How had he been killed?"  
  
"Gunshot to the head."  
  
"And Schwarz didn't kill him?"  
  
"We've already established that."  
  
"Well damn, that makes things harder."  
  
"You're a great private detective."  
  
Yohji shot Nagi a Look. "How can you guys not have realized he was dead?"  
  
"It's not our business to keep track of him. Just guard him when needed."  
  
"It amazes me how you guys managed to stay in business yourselves all these years. What's your motto? 'You can hire us, but it won't do you jack shit? (In fact you'll probably end up dead sooner rather then later)'? This is your second dead bodyguard assignment, right? Or do you have more you're not telling me about?"  
  
"Shut up."  
  
"I think I'm offended! You know it's not nice to keep secrets."  
  
Nagi stopped honoring Yohji with any sort of reply. The man was an idiot. How had he ended up with such a moron? One of Weiss, no less? This was absolutely ridiculous!  
  
Someone somewhere, he was sure, was laughing at him.  
  
* * * *  
  
Aya had been so absolutely surprised when the Irishman complimented his sword that he had almost dropped it. Part of him wanted to launch at the madman, regardless of the compliment. It was his duty, and he HATED them. They had stolen his sister, after all. They had been linked to Takatori. He wouldn't be able happy until they were dead.  
  
But it was hard to get into a fighting mood with a comment like that. It was hard to fight when the opponent wasn't willing. Indeed, the madman was standing across from him, eyes focused on Aya's katana. Aya let his own eyes trail down to it, to see if something spectacular had happened to it when he wasn't looking. No. It had not grown wings or gotten an eyeball. Aya decided the madman's preoccupation with it had to do with his obsession of all things sharp. Aya looked up at the Irishman. Yelling 'Shi-ne' now wouldn't work. Besides, although Aya wouldn't admit it allowed, his arm was paining him. A lot. Aya had no doubt now that it was broken. To fight would have been a folly, but he wouldn't have shied away from it.  
  
"You would have fought me even though you are in pain," the white haired man said suddenly. Aya blinked. The sentence had made sense and was said calmly. He hadn't expected that from the madman. Still, he didn't feel he needed to answer. The madman just nodded, as if Aya had said something anyway.  
  
"A broken kitten. Ran," he spoke again. Aya was shocked into speech.  
  
"Why did you call me that?"  
  
"It is your name. You are not your sister."  
  
Aya's eyes narrowed. How much did Schwarz know, anyway? It made him uncomfortable, too. He did not like the fact that Schwarz had used that name, it made it somehow seem like they had power over him.  
  
"Jei." Two could play that game.  
  
A gold eye glittered dangerously. "Do NOT call me that," The Irishman said vehemently. "It is NOT the same."  
  
Purple eyes met gold, both challenging. They had both began to step towards one another threateningly when Aya moved wrong, jostling his arm. His eyes narrowed in pain for just a split second, causing Farfarello to step back.  
  
"Farfarello."  
  
"What?" Aya said through clenched teeth, fighting the wave of nausea.  
  
"Call me Farfarello," The Irishman said, that maniacal grin on his face.  
  
  
  
* * * *  
  
"As soon as our clothes dry out, we're going to head upstream," Crawford announced suddenly. Omi, startled, dropped the two sticks he had been using to try to create a fire. There had been no words spoken between the two of them in the last two hours. The American eyes him disdainfully. "Stop trying. It's not going to work." Omi dropped the sticks. He had spent the last half hour trying to create enough friction for a few sparks. However, in the event that he even had dry would to use, there wasn't enough tiny sticks and dry grass for the sparks to catch. The only thing he had gotten were raw hands.  
  
"Will we meet up with both our teams there?"  
  
Crawford shot Omi a glared and decided not to honor the question with an answer. The fact that his powers still hadn't come back was something that rankled him. He saw it as a sign of weakness and that was beyond irritating. He shot a glance then to where their clothes, save for their underwear and respective pants were drying. The American's now ruined jacket, vest, tie, and shirt hung neatly over the limb of a young tree, while Weiss' jacket (That damn annoying hoody) and shirt hung over an accompanying limb. Both of their socks were resting on a nearby log, shoes lay out in front. Omi had been aghast when he had pulled off his socks and shoes to see his feet horribly pruned. In fact, Crawford noticed as Omi shot another glance toward them.  
  
"Beginnings of trench foot," The American had told him, having pulled his own socks off and taking the situation of his own wrinkled feet in. Bombay turned his head to look up at Crawford. He paused before speaking, as if gathering his thoughts.  
  
"A lot of European soldiers suffered from that in World War I. The warm and wet habitat of their feet was perfect breeding grounds for bacteria, and so a lot of men had to have their feet cut off because of it," Omi said slowly, recalling information he had learned from school.  
  
Crawford nodded his head ever so slightly. "That's right."  
  
Omi looked back down at his wrinkled feet, wiggling his toes. Satisfied that they weren't in danger of falling off, he looked back at Crawford. He couldn't understand the American. He was so silent. Brooding. All the words that came out of his mouth pertained to the matters at hand. There seemed to be absolutely nothing frivolous about him. Since Omi had pulled him out of the water, the leader of Schwarz hadn't acted in anyway to get Omi's hackles up or remind him why he hated their opposing team. Still. he had done so many evil things.  
  
It was weird. The villains in all the stories were shallow, simple creatures who usually set things up so that they were the cause of their own downfall. The leaders were incompetent people driven by their ambition to take over the world. Schwarz had proved over and over that they knew quite well what they were doing, and were good at it. Omi knew they had to be a hard group of people to lead, yet the man standing in front of him managed to do it. That said something about his character, didn't it?  
  
But he was evil.  
  
Omi bit his lip. Somehow, his brain had started plodding around in a circle. He supposed the reason it was so hard for him to hate him now was because he had saved his life. If he had wanted him dead, he could've just let go. Then his death wouldn't really even be on his soul.  
  
Omi's eyes strayed to the wound on the American's shoulder. It looked like it hurt a lot. Omi wasn't sure how deep the puncture had gone, which would determine how long it would take to heal and just how much it hurt. The area around it was red and swollen. Crawford hadn't been able to patch it up, and Omi hadn't offered help because he knew it would have been refused.  
  
"Do you have anything of use to us?"  
  
"Just my darts. I should have some bandages with me too, though," Omi added as an afterthought. He carried bandages with him everywhere. Because of the line of work he and his friends engaged in, he felt it was a necessity. Omi dug into the pockets of his shorts, pulling out the wet bandages. Unconsciously, Omi's eyes traveled guiltily to Crawford's shoulder. He hadn't offered the help. Maybe it wouldn't have been refused? It was so hard to tell with this man!  
  
"Get dressed. We're going to start the hike back up now."  
  
It was said in the tone of voice of one who didn't expect you to disobey. It wasn't haughty or smug, just commanding. Omi could respect that, if nothing else.  
  
* * * *  
  
The site that met Ken's eyes were confusing, to say the least. After hearing the cry of German, he had made his way towards the sound as fast as possible. He hadn't been sure why the shout, so he'd put it behind him with plans to figure out all that stuff later, after he'd killed Shuldich. When he arrived at the scene, the German was currently in a fight with several..shadowy looking things. To top it off, Shuldich almost seemed to be losing.  
  
What the HELL?  
  
Ken was no strategist, he left that job to Omi. However, he DID conclude that if he helped in defeating the shadows, the faster he would be able make a go at the Schwarz member. Without hesitating, Ken suddenly launched into the huge fray and was quite surprised to find the shadows were solid. Ken grinned. This would make things that much easier. The statement was retracted however, scant seconds later when his blades tore through a shadow creature, the thing bursting into tiny globules.  
  
.and then reforming moments after.  
  
Ken also discovered that these things weren't causing bodily harm to him, but seemed rather to smother him. He was growing exhausted quickly, and he could feel himself slowing down. He knew then, that something was definitely wrong. Throwing a glance to Schwarz who had been fighting longer, he his face fiercely determined, and his fight seemed to be of the mind and not so much the body. Blue eyes suddenly met his.  
  
~Run.~  
  
The voice echoed in his head and Ken narrowed his eyes. Run? That went against his grain. Still, here was an enemy he didn't understand and didn't have a chance against. (Currently, anyway.) Ken suddenly lunged through, claws extended in front of him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Shuldich do the same. Breathing heavily, both ran as fast as they could from the weird shadows behind them. Panting, Ken risked a glance over his shoulder to see if the shadows were gaining. They weren't. They were all stopped, gathered together at one place, and they didn't seem to be able to pass past that point.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Guardians," The German said. Ken turned narrowed brown eyes to him.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Don't attack me, you'll just aggravate your ribs, and you won't win," Shuldich said, smirking.  
  
Ken seethed. Oh, how he hated the telepath. "What.Were.Those," he said through clenched teeth.  
  
"I already said," Shuldich replied glibly.  
  
Letting lose a battle cry, Ken suddenly launched himself at Shuldich. The red head managed to dodge neatly, forcing Ken to fall into a tight roll. Has he used the momentum from the roll to get back into a standing position, his ribs, whose pain had been ignored, suddenly protested violently. Ken gasped, hand going to his ribs gingerly. Shuldich continued smirking at him.  
  
DAMN him.  
  
"Tch, Kenken. So filled with hate!"  
  
"Fuck you."  
  
"You're really not my type."  
  
Growling, Ken launched again. All thoughts of shadows and the fight just previous that the two had shared were gone, and now Ken was after blood. Shuldich's. Ken grinned maliciously as he pointedly ignored the pain in his chest. He was going to get Shuldich and he was going to cause him pain.  
  
"You're almost as bad as Farfarello. I can't believe the rest of your team hasn't picked up on this."  
  
"Don't compare me to that creature!"  
  
"Well, it's nothing a little rewiring won't fix."  
  
"Don't touch my head!" Ken cried out, bringing his weapon again down on Shuldich who dodged neatly out of the way.  
  
"You should stop. The only thing you're doing is aggravating your ribs. We should probably do something more productive, hmm?"  
  
"I'm not going to do anything with you!"  
  
Shuldich rolled his eyes. Ken's attitude, somehow, reminded him of Luke Skywalker. (Shuldich was an mild Star Wars fan, though he would never admit it.) "I won't join you!" "I'm not like that!" The German chuckled. Hmmm, what would Ken do if he called himself his father? Seeing Ken's reaction would just be hilarious. Shuldich stored it away as things to do sometime. The face people gave him when said off the wall things like that were always worth it. Still, while Darth Vader he was NOT, he could still have some fun.  
  
"But you'll want my help in finding the bodies of your friends at least, won't you?" Shuldich watched in amusement as Ken paled drastically, the fight gone from him.  
  
"No.they're not dead."  
  
"They're not all dead," Shuldich agreed amiably. "But at least Bombay is," he finished, after searching through Ken's brain for the member of his team he felt strongly about. The brother he never had.  
  
"No.how."  
  
"How do I know? Crawford found his body. I'm a telepath, remember? Connected to people's minds and all that," he explained. He hadn't known why he'd chosen Crawford, the only person of the team he wasn't able to reach. Damn, where WAS the American? Shuldich didn't want to try reaching out for him again just yet, in the event that he would get another migraine as severe as before. Shuldich knew that he was going to have to be more careful. The Shadow Guardians back there had been powerful, and he had felt his energy and powers draining fast. If Shadow Guardians had been put on this mountain, then there was no telling what else was here. It also didn't bode well because it meant that somewhere, someone, was controlling the creatures. Whoever was doing this has to be very powerful.  
  
Shuldich cast a glance to Ken who was slumped against a tree, his face a mixture of both physical and mental pain. He touched the surfacing thoughts and was somewhat disgusted that Ken was thinking of Kase. Again. The guy had been dead for over two years AND had betrayed him, yet Ken still thought of him as a best friend. Here he was now, trying to accept Bombay's death and simultaneously thinking of Kase, thinking about how he'd lost all the people close to him. The result was going to be a major spiral into depression.  
  
Pathetic. These emotions weren't even that sweet, and Ken thought about Kase so much that Shuldich knew all the details to what had happened probably better then Ken himself did. The German watched as Ken lamented the loss of his friend and cursed the world for taking away his best friends.  
  
Shuldich felt it would probably be a blessing to put Siberian out of his misery.  
  
"Omi." Ken moaned, tears running down his face. Shuldich wondered what had made the soccer player so inclined to believe him in the first place. The total breakdown in emotion was almost startling. Ahhh, he had already seriously considered his friends being dead. Shuldich had just offered proof. Interesting.  
  
"Kase had nothing on Bombay," Shuldich said, looking down at the wreck Ken was becoming. Ken's brown eyes rose to meet his. They narrowed when they realized the German had been reading his thoughts.  
  
"You."  
  
"I'm just saying you should stop lamenting the death of Kase so much. The man was despicable, and he never considered himself you friend." Well.that was sort of a lie. A long time ago as children, Kase had returned Ken's friendship, but time had passed and adult jealousies and greed had gotten in the way.  
  
"That's not true!"  
  
"It's close enough." Shuldich realized that if he was going to spend time with this Weiss soccer player, then he was going to get his mind off Kase. Not for Ken's sake, but for his own. It was no fun to read into his mind when he was constantly hung up on his dead 'friend'. Shuldich smirked. He had a mission.  
  
* * * *  
  
Crawford was having a hell of a time pulling his jacket on. His arm had grown stiff and protested at any movement, not to mention that moving to pull his shirt on had resulted in a reopening of the wound. The American had decided to give up on wearing the shirt and was currently working on the jacket. He felt Bombay's eyes on him, and he turned, glowering, to the teenager. The boy met his gaze before grabbing the bandaged that had been in his pocket and making his way towards Crawford. He didn't need this.  
  
"Don't touch me."  
  
"There's a high chance of that getting infected. Bandaging it might help some. The wound has had time to bleed itself, so while it would've been dangerous to put something on earlier, it should be okay now," Bombay replied logically. Crawford frowned. This was going to be a battle he was going to lose. He needed his shoulder bandaged, and that was something Omi could do. Within minutes the sword wound was bandaged and Crawford admitted to himself reluctantly that the boy had done a good job.  
  
Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he once again severely missed the presence of his glasses. He couldn't see anything, and squinting constantly gave him headaches. Maybe he going to have to start being like Theodore Roosevelt and carry around an excess of glasses with him everywhere he went.  
  
AP American History, oh how that had been ground into his head. He couldn't believe he'd remembered that, after all these years.  
  
The two began the slow climb back up the mountain, following the river up  
  
"Why were you on this mountain if not to kill our target?"  
  
"To bodyguard him, but he was dead long before we got there."  
  
"But you had only found out by the time we'd gotten there?"  
  
"It is not customary for us to talk or check up on the person we're supposed to be protecting unless he summons us," Brad went through the habit of pushing the glasses up on his nose and frowned when they weren't there.  
  
"I wonder who killed him."  
  
"It's not something I'm concerned about."  
  
"But it was your mission to protect him-"  
  
"If we don't want to dehydrate, I suggest getting something to drink," Crawford said, indicating the previous conversation was over. Bombay nodded simply and made his way to the river.  
  
"Is it safe?" He asked, looking dubiously at the rushing water. It had cleared out, and was no longer running muddy, which Omi took as a good sign, but still.  
  
"It would be better if we had fire to boil with," Crawford said, which didn't quite answer his question. Omi found that the American did that a lot. He was really smooth with the way he did it, too. Nevertheless, the American was on his knees, using his one hand to cup water and bring it to his mouth.  
  
"I guess if we get sick, we'll know why." Omi shrugged, bending next to the water. It would probably help his aching throat, too.  
  
* * * *  
  
"We need to light a fire," Yohji announced, pulling his lighter from his pocket. It was a Zippo, and Yohji appreciated the way it roared to life after he'd flicked it a few times. Lighters were truly great inventions, and now besides lighting cigarettes they could also be used to light fires to keep him and the Schwarz boy warm. (And maybe summon the rest of his team.) Who would've thought something so small was so versatile?  
  
"There's no dry wood."  
  
"Using your telekinesis stuff to dry the wood off, or something."  
  
Nagi twitched. He was NOT a blow dryer. "If you're cold, wear a jacket. You brought enough."  
  
"But a fire will summon our friends."  
  
"I don't need fires to get my team," Nagi smirked, tapping his head. Yohji's green eyes narrowed.  
  
"Do you know where all your team is?"  
  
"Yes." No. Shuldich hadn't contacted him since that first time, so Nagi was currently unaware of the whereabouts of everyone. Where were Farfarello and Crawford? Had he contacted them?  
  
~Shuldich?~  
  
~We've got Guardians~ The red head said automatically, foregoing any sort of greeting.  
  
~What kind?~  
  
~So far only shadows, but there might be more.~  
  
~Shit. Have you contacted Crawford?~  
  
~I can't. Something's blocking me.~  
  
~What about Farfarello?~  
  
~He's with Abyssinian.~  
  
~But why can't you get Crawford?~  
  
~I don't know. It's like they don't want me to reach him.~  
  
~Balinese and I are going to light a fire, maybe Crawford will be able to see the smoke.~  
  
~I wouldn't be too worried about him, Chibi. That man can't die. Watch your back, though.~  
  
~Thanks.~  
  
~Anytime. Are you still at the house?~  
  
~What's left.~  
  
~Stay there. We'll try and find you.~  
  
~'We?'~  
  
~Siberian and I.~  
  
~You're with him?~  
  
~Funny, isn't it? He'll be a whole new person by the time we get to you,~ Shuldich chuckled before going dormant in the link that connected all of Schwarz together. Nagi turned to look at Yohji, who was currently trying to start a fire. The boy walked up to him and observed as he tried unsuccessfully several times to light a huge block of wood.  
  
"You need to start small," Nagi instructed, crouching next to the playboy. He picked up splinters of wood and leaves, doing his best to wipe off what water he could with his power. After he cleared a small area, he tented the sticks together. "Give me the lighter," Nagi commanded. Yohji passed the Zippo into his hand. The Schwarz boy carefully brought the flame to his small creation and watched with a small amount of pride as it caught fire. "We'll build it up from here."  
  
"Not too bad."  
  
"Yeah, I know," Nagi said, smirking again at Yohji who shook his head slightly as he sensed the boy's pride. He turned his eyes to where the small fire was growing, musing about the boy next to him.  
  
Nagi didn't seem like such a bad person, all things considered. He could almost get to like him.  
  
Now wouldn't THAT be strange? White liking black? That went against something, didn't it?  
  
Hmm.  
  
End Chapter IV  
  
* * *  
  
So there's chapter Four. I wrote this one faster then three because I had more time, and a lot of encouragement! ^^ I also have a better idea as to where all this is going. I hope there's enough action in there for all you people. Thanks for all the reviews, I really appreciate them. :-D Well, keep tuned in! I'll try and spurt out the next chapter ASAP! Oh! And the story has just reached the 50 page mark! Once again, even if YOU'RE not proud of me, I'M certainly proud of me! :-D Oh, and about Theodore Roosevelt. He's one of my favorite presidents. ^^ Anyway, he was EXTREMLEY near sighted, and always carried extra glasses with him going into battle, sometimes even sewing them to his clothes. (I guess he carried extra pairs elsewhere, but anyway) While I was writing that particular scene, that factoid about TR just popped up and I decided to write it down. Of COURSE Braddy took AP US History. Can't you just see him taking all the AP classes he could get a hold of in high school? 


	5. The Gods would Laugh Chapter V

The Gods Would Laugh Chapter V  
  
Crawford was surprised when Bombay decided to start a conversation. He had thought the Weiss boy had come to an understanding not to talk.  
  
"What's it like in America?" America. Not a place Crawford wanted to think about. However, Bombay kept a deluge of questions going. "How are the people? I've had American food, it's pretty good." Crawford ignored him while he continued talking gaily about what he had heard about America, and how he wanted to go there. He was good, Crawford mused, at ignoring people. He had to put up with Shuldich, after all. Finally, however:  
  
"America is a place filled with people who don't care anything about anyone else. They think they're the best country that's ever existed, and most people live in their state for the entire lives. Americans are overbearing, thinking they need to patrol all the countries. They waste their time on working for peace in countries that have been at war for thousands of years."  
  
This stopped Bombay short. The golden haired boy looked up at Crawford. "You hate it?"  
  
Crawford didn't answer, and Omi wasn't sure if he should take that for a yes or a no. It didn't seem like he was going to get an answer, anyway. "I'm hungry," Omi announced suddenly, causing Crawford to look at him out of the corner of his eye.  
  
"There should be food once we make it to our destination."  
  
"What are we going to do for food if there isn't?"  
  
"We do have weapons at our disposal."  
  
"But no animals."  
  
Crawford slowed, considering. His eyes narrowed as he realized Omi was right. They hadn't heard the sounds of any birds or the rustle of leaves that would indicate squirrels, or even larger game like deer. They were far enough away from civilization too, that human noises shouldn't frighten them that much.  
  
And then Crawford felt a flash of extreme foreboding. "Get down!" He shouted, shoving the boy while diving to the left. Omi twisted around in time to see a flurry of darts fly overhead. After a few moments, the two hesitantly got up. Omi went to examine the darts embedded in the tree.  
  
"Hey, these are mine!" Omi looked at the darts oddly while Crawford came to stand next to him, peering over his shoulder.  
  
"We didn't put a trap there."  
  
"What?"  
  
"A booby trap. We didn't put one there."  
  
Omi let that sink in as something finally dawned on him. "Then you were the ones-"  
  
Crawford smirked.  
  
"But that could've killed us!"  
  
"Then you wouldn't have worth our while, anyway."  
  
"Crawford, who would've been able to set up these darts if Schwarz didn't?" Omi looked up at the American who was frowning slightly, fingers unconsciously rubbing the bridge of his nose as if he were deep in thought. He did not answer.  
  
* * * *  
  
Aya watched in disgust as Farfarello happily ate some grubs he had found beneath a log. The two had been trudging up hill when the Irishman suddenly wandered off to an old fallen log. He had given the thing a push and as it roller over, leaving moist dirt beneath, Aya had watched as Farfarello shot his hand out and grabbed several bugs. The Irishman had studied them carefully, holding his handful up to his eye and looking at each intensely. With his other hand he chose one and then popped it in his mouth. Aya didn't have to ask why he was eating bugs. He knew they were high in protein and that certain cultures ate them. He supposed that enough would probably be filling, too. However, Aya had limits, and eating bugs was on the same level of disgusting as the movie Alive had been. Some things you just weren't supposed to eat.  
  
Aya was very determined to get back up that mountainside to where their packs were. MRE's were better then nothing, and definitely better then bugs.  
  
"We need to hurry up," Aya said. He felt there was a good chance they'd get up that mountain before nightfall. He knew if his teammates were alive, that's where they would try to go to. Aya only hoped there was enough stuff left standing to make it identifiable.  
  
"I know," Farfarello said, eye glittering. Aya looked over at him, hoping for an explanation. The Irishman stared back at him for a while before answering, "Things that don't belong cause problems for the guilty one."  
  
Aya frowned. That hadn't helped him at all.  
  
"I follow you until we find Crawford," Farfie announced, a complete non sequitur to what he had just said. "You have more emotions then he."  
  
"." "You are very angry," Farfarello chuckled then, as if he had just made a joke.  
  
"Let's go," Aya said shortly. He didn't need to listen to the ramblings of a madman.  
  
The two were climbing up the mountainside, following the river. Aya had his arm clutched to his chest. It was paining him more then he would admit. To top things off, Aya was really worried for his team. He would never admit it, of course, but he was.  
  
Just as the two were carefully making their way up a rocky part of the slope, Aya felt something grab him suddenly. Purple eyes opened wide and he turned his head to see what had a hold of him. All he caught sight of was a ripple in the air right next to him before he was slammed forcefully into a large boulder. Immediately he felt himself sliding towards unconsciousness, the pain from his arm overwhelming. Blurred eyes searched for Farfarello, and just before Aya succumbed gratefully to unconsciousness he saw the Irishman was getting the same treatment as he.  
  
* * * *  
  
Ken felt like someone had reached into his chest and cruelly ripped his heart out. In place of his heart was the overbearing feeling of emptiness and loss forming a hard lump of pain where his heart had once been.  
  
Omi was dead.  
  
Ken's breath hitched and felt the pain that was his heart enter his eyes in the form of tears. It hurt so MUCH. How could his best friend be dead? He felt so alone and lost. He couldn't handle it.  
  
As the two trudged on, Shuldich surprisingly quiet, Ken wanted nothing more to collapse and crumple into a little ball. The stress on his heart was too much, the effort from hiding back tears causing too much pain. Why had Omi died? They'd been such good friends. It wasn't FAIR. All his best friends had died or left him. First Kase, now Omi. Ken's mind began pulling up images of Kase. Memories caught Ken in their web and he was left with wisps of the good times he'd had with the man he had to kill. He remembered all the times they had, and still couldn't accept his friend had been evil. He knew he had cared, even if no one else believed it. It hadn't been Kase's fault. It had hurt then to kill his friend, but he had been able to cope because Omi had been there for him. Omi had always been there, and even though he always had problems of his own, he was always so happy and kind.  
  
Now Omi was gone and Ken wouldn't hear his voice again or see his smile. As he tried to cope, to somehow rationalize it, the only thing he realized was that he would no longer be able to have new experiences with his friend that would turn into good memories.  
  
He couldn't do it. He couldn't. He fell to the ground, resting his head on his knees. And Ken cried. * * * *  
  
While Ken slowly cracked and crumbled, Shuldich watched with interest. He hadn't had this much fun in a while. The assassin had been so close to breaking down anyway. It had only taken a few nudges here, a few pushes there. Now the boy was a blubbering sobbing mess. Granted, it wasn't really helping getting his mind of the pathetic Kase, but it was entertaining nonetheless. As Shuldich watched, leaning against a tree, he pondered why he didn't just go through and rip all memories of Kase from Ken's mind. He concluded that he wanted Ken to realize what Shuldich had done for him. A little self promotion never hurt anybody. Besides, then Ken wouldn't realize he really HAD been betrayed.  
  
Damn, but he was evil.  
  
Shuldich smirked. Really, what he was doing was not all that evil. He was getting the poor Weiss boy over his damn Kase obsession. One could argue that was more for Shuldich's benefit insomuch as he was absolutely tired of Kase always being on the mind. Of course, it could even be argued that if Shuldich were to keep his mind to himself, it wouldn't be a problem.  
  
It was all a matter of perspective, really. Either way though, it gave him something to do; something to keep his mind busy. Shuldich was more worried about the Guardians then he was willing to admit. Guardians were a lot of trouble. Only a special few had the power to control spirits and give them a somewhat physical form, depending on the element they were assigned. Most people who did that were weak, only able to control one elemental spirit or so. The Guardians that they had come across were powerful, and there were probably a lot more. This didn't bode well. It either meant there was a huge team working together on this mountain.and that didn't make any sense, because they should've been able to pick up some hint of that. The only other option was that there was someone very powerful here. Shuldich stopped himself suddenly. He was almost sounding.serious! If he didn't watch out, he'd start acting responsible, and maybe even mature. Then there would be TWO Crawfords. If that happened, they'd probably get into lots of fights and issues over control and obsessive-compulsiveness. No, it was better to leave those things to their fearless leader. Shuldich was the annoying one. It was his niche, if you will. Besides that whole telepathy thing, anyway. So, while Shuldich was in charge temporarily, he realized it was a role he would give up quite readily once they got Crawford back.  
  
And he WOULD be coming back.  
  
* * * *  
  
"Come here," Nagi said, his voice tight. Yohji looked over from where he was sorting out the packs, eyes slightly raised. He hadn't heard this sort of commanding voice from the boy before. Nagi wasn't looking at him thought. His look was far away and he seemed to be concentrating on something. Yohji immediately put himself on guard, glancing around cautiously. He got up and edged over to the boy.  
  
"What's wrong?" "There's something out there."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I'm not sure. Probably Guardians. I have a wall up. They're fighting me," Nagi spoke in short sentences, is mind obviously on the task at hand. Yohji looked out to where Nagi was staring.  
  
"There's nothing there." What were Guardians, anyway? When Nagi didn't answer him, Yohji turned his attention back out, looking around. There wasn't anything-  
  
Oh, wait.  
  
Yohji saw a slight shimmer in the air, like the heat that rose from the pavement on a hot day. As Yohji watched, the thing became a little more visible.and suddenly started rushing at him.  
  
"What the fuck!?" Yohji scrambled backwards as the thing came closer.  
  
.and bounced harmlessly off Nagi's barrier. Soon many such things were slamming into the wall and Yohji looked over to see the Schwarz boy sweating, teeth clenched. Yohji inched closer to the boy. Maybe he'd be able to close the barrier a little more? A shiver raced up his spine as he watched the things continue the onslaught. They looked harmless, but they were slamming in with enough force that if Yohji had been caught by those things alone. Yohji stopped the thought, suddenly very appreciative of the telekinetic beside him.  
  
Yohji stood next to Nagi, feeling extremely helpless. There should be SOMETHING he could do besides stand here and look cool. Well, a panicked, fearful sort of cool, but cool nonetheless. Maybe he could fight them? He doubted his wire would do any harm, but some part of him-the heroic part, probably- argued that he should go in to the mess, fists pounding into these creatures. But then the larger and much more reasonable side of him argued back that these appeared to be creatures of air, and if his wire couldn't do anything, then his fists certainly couldn't. That was the whole reason he'd gotten the wire anyway, remember? Because it was better then his fists.  
  
Hmm, point.  
  
So Yohji was back where he had started. Helpless and pretty much a third wheel in this mess. Yohji looked over at Nagi again, and it was during this moment that he suddenly felt something bump into him. Yohji wheeled around to see the creatures were gaining ground. Now when they were slamming into the wall they were starting to come through, ever so slightly.  
  
"We have to run," Nagi managed out. Yohji looked over at him. "On my signal." He continued, not paying attention to the whether Yohji had acknowledged him or not. "NOW!" Nagi broke away, running in the opposite direction they had been facing. Yohji followed suite, noticing somewhat unhappily that Nagi had chosen to choose a path up the mountain. If it wasn't one thing, it was the other. It was bad enough they were running from invisible (Well, nearly so) opponents, but to have to run away from them up a mountain? Escaping up hill from invisible creatures was one of those things Yohji marked down in his book as Unfair. Invisible creatures were Unfair. Being chased by them uphill was really Unfair. It irked Yohji to no end that someone wasn't playing on even playing grounds. What bothered him even more was the fact that he seemed to always be on the side that had the disadvantage. Not once, not even at the flower shop, had they gotten what was called the 'home field advantage.' You'd think they would've at least had an easy break there when Schwarz came after them, right? They lived there. They should've definitely had the advantage. But nooooo. Aya-chan had been taken back, no problem, and pain on Weiss' part had been involved.  
  
When they got back from this mess, Yohji was going to definitely consider retiring. Maybe some job where at least he wouldn't live under the delusion of getting a chance. Something like a guidance counselor. Or a porn star. Yeah, at least that would be fun. Easy too, probably. He was definitely going to have to look into that. He'd even get some name with sexual connotations. Hardware, or something like that.  
  
Yohji noted with definite consternation that he was running out of breath and Nagi was lagging behind. Yohji grabbed the boy's wrist, dragging him forward. "Come on, Nagi!" The Schwarz boy looked up in surprise, dark blue eyes meeting green. The boy seemed to put more energy in, suddenly. By the time they had gotten far enough away though, Nagi had begun to lean on Yohji.  
  
The two paused at a landing of sorts that overlooked the valley. The trees up here were sparse, and so they had a better view of the things below them, if only slightly.  
  
"We're safe from them here.for now," Nagi managed through gasps as he tried to get his breath back.  
  
"What WERE those things?"  
  
"Guardians. Shuldich warned me of them."  
  
"That doesn't explain anything."  
  
"Spirits assigned to elements. Only certain people have the ability to take a spirit and bend them to their will like that," Nagi explained.  
  
"How do we fights against that?!" Yohji asked, somewhat aghast.  
  
"It's somewhat of a problem," Nagi admitted. "The spirits usually have boundless energy, and not only do they have semblance of a physical form that causes harm, but they also have a way of sucking the life energy from you."  
  
".Great." Yeah, the life of a porn star was looking more and more promising. At least he wouldn't have to deal with invisible life sucking monsters. Yohji watched as Nagi's eyes became faraway again. The boy seemed to do that on a fairly regular basis. What was he doing?  
  
* * * *  
  
~We just ran into Air Guardians.~  
  
~You get out okay?~  
  
~Yeah.~  
  
~Where were you?~  
  
~Near the remnants of the house. I'm going to try to go back there later.~  
  
~Good. When I get there I should be able to help you fight them off. We could set up our basis of operations from that point.~  
  
~Hey Shuldich.you're almost sounding.like a leader.~  
  
~Don't I know it? It's been a matter of slight worry for me. Where will Schwarz be if I start acting mature?~  
  
~Found Crawford yet?~  
  
~No, but for a moment before I was attacked, I thought I felt him. Farf's unconscious. He and Abyssinian were attacked, too.~  
  
~What's going on?~  
  
~I don't know, but I don't think we were brought here to protect a drug lord, Nagi-Chan.~  
  
Shuldich felt a sigh from the boy for being called 'Chan.'  
  
~Just let me know if anything else happens.~  
  
~Only if you do the same. Relationships are two way, you know.~  
  
Nagi let the link go dormant. While he we never admit it, he was glad for Shuldich's personality, even if it was sometimes trying and had, upon occasion, pushed Crawford to far. It lightened things up, and for that Nagi was grateful.  
  
* * * *  
  
  
  
  
  
"We should be there soon," Crawford announced. Omi looked over at him. The two had been trudging up the mountain in silence for the majority of the morning and through the afternoon. Even though they hadn't spoke much, Omi had begun to feel a sort of companionship towards the American. Perhaps it was the shared experience.  
  
"What then?"  
  
"Everyone should be meeting up there again. It would make the most sense," Crawford explained. Omi glanced over at him. What if everyone hadn't come to the same conclusion? He knew Yohji was liable to just leave the mountain and hope everyone regrouped somewhere else. Like maybe a bar.  
  
"How do you know?"  
  
"Because Shuldich can link everyone. He would have told them," Crawford responded.  
  
"Has he contacted you?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Then."  
  
"We're being blocked," Crawford said as way of answer.  
  
"Wait, by what?"  
  
Crawford paused before answering. "I'm not sure yet," he finally admitted, causing Omi's eyes to raise in amazement at the American's admittance. "We're here," Crawford announced as the two final raised themselves up into the depression where the house had been. They were crossing the area when two things suddenly happened. The first was that Omi heard Yohji yelling at him. Omi looked up, relief and delight etching his features. At least Yohji was okay!  
  
The second thing that happened was that several somethings attacked him and Crawford, throwing them back several feet. Omi felt the air being knocked out of him as he landed hard against the ground. Immediately he was pounced on, and Omi lashed out viciously. What was going on? He couldn't even see it, but there was DEFINITELY something there!  
  
And then Omi felt his energy seeping from him and he felt himself sink towards apathy quickly. Things were also very painless, so what would it matter if he gave up?  
  
Yes, giving up seemed like a very good idea. It was the prominent thought, anyway. A smaller and rapidly decreasing part fought back. It told him to get up, to get out of here and fast.  
  
Omi found himself not really caring. The will to live slipped, and so did the will to move. Suddenly Omi found himself not caring about a lot of things that had once been important. Friends, Weiss, the situation of being on the mountain. Omi realized how petty it all was. How little it mattered. Nothing mattered.  
  
Nothing at all.  
  
* * * *  
  
"Fuck, there's more of them!" Yohji announced loudly in a frantic voice. Nagi gave the older man an annoyed look. The increase of enemies was something he'd figured out. "Get up, Omi!" Yohji cried out to his friend who had fallen from the initial attack and hadn't moved since. Crawford didn't seem to be doing to well either. They hit him hard, too, throwing him back into a tree. His eyes were narrowed, his face tight. He was fighting against them, Yohji knew. How long he could hold out was something Yohji didn't know. "You gonna do something?" Yohji looked over at Nagi.  
  
"There are more of them. Blowing them back like I did before will be harder. I haven't regained all my energy yet," Nagi explained.  
  
"You're saying we can't do anything?!"  
  
".I'm saying that they've been thrown in opposite directions and I do not have the energy to expand my wall for a long enough time to rescue both," Nagi finished. Yohji looked at him, eyes narrowed.  
  
"So what you're saying is-"  
  
"Crawford is my teammate."  
  
"Fuck no!"  
  
"I have no obligation to Bombay," Nagi said coldly, climbing back down from where the two had been hiding out.  
  
"Damnit, Nagi! You save both of them!" Yohji yelled down, anger and fear mixing in his voice. No way was Omi going to die down there among those.things. Yohji scowled when Nagi didn't answer. Omi wasn't going to die.  
  
Yohji began descending, following in the wake of Nagi. He wouldn't allow this to happen. He'd be able to get Omi, somehow.  
  
* * *  
  
End Chapter 5!  
  
I'm sorry it's taken so long to update! I had a little writers block. I got over it, but yeah, it took a little while longer. Also, there's only ten pages today. My laptop has decided to completely die on me now. I'm running out of time before it decides just to explode. I wanted to get this chapter saved and uploaded before that happened, because I don't know when I'll be able to write again. Where there's a will, there's a way though, so look forward to it! ^^ About Farf eating bugs.yeah, I can see it happening. I've had a worm and an ant. The worm was okay by the ant was acidic. I guess I chose the wrong kind of ant. I plan to eat a cricket some day.but yeah. More action here, and Aya's unconscious! Bad stuff going down, bad stuff. Well, I figured out a bunch of stuff for the story, and where it is going and all. I hope you all will like it, and I apologize for taking so long! I also want to THANK everyone for reviewing. It's meant a lot to me, I mean a LOT. So, do keep it up. ^^ Anyway, you'll have to forgive the roughness of it. I was getting it out ASAP. I'm going to fix it later, mmkay guys! Ciao 


	6. Trips into unconsciousness, and back aga...

Chapter VI Trips into unconsciousness, and back again. Disclaimers: yadda yadda, they don't belong to me! Bah. Spoilers: None that I'm really aware of. But then, I haven't put major thought into this. You know, the series. Wait, yes it does. It has lots of spoilers. But I don't make any direct reference to them. Not in THIS chapter, anyway!  
  
The ghost was amused. When he had been alive, these people had scorned him in life. One group had considered him below them, felt that he was some sort of tool at their disposal, and the other group had invested their resources in trying to kill him. Now he had control of this side of the mountain and the ability that he had had in life was only amplified in death. He now didn't have any problems controlling spirits and assigning them roles as Guardians.  
  
The ghost sat back, watching with barely contained joy as the youngest member of the team called Weiss slowly had his life drained from him. He had instructed the Guardians to go about it slowly, so the boy would realize what was happening to him. Realize that in his time of need he was alone. The ghost mused, realizing he sounded sadistic. That was fine. These people had wronged him in life, and now he was returning the favor.  
  
'Sitting' casually on the rock outcropping at the perimeter where his house had been, the ghost's eyes shifted to the other member caught in the grip of his Guardians. The precognitive was resisting better, and the ghost conceded that this made sense. This was the leader of Schwarz, the most feared group in the underworld. They were known for their efficiency, the cold way they carried out their missions. They were also known to be experts at protecting those who hired them as bodyguards. When sucking life, Guardians operated largely by going through the mind, and because of his powers and the need to protect from the German, odds were the American had a strong wall around his mind. The ghost admired that, but he admired himself even more for allowing the one Guardian to get far enough into his mind to block any visions. It had been so subtle and natural that the American had never suspected a thing.  
  
Despite the fact that Crawford hadn't broken yet, the Guardians were exhorting enough force that the man was using all his energy into keeping him out. However, with the one Guardian already inside his mind and these on the outside, it would only be a matter of time before the wall shattered. Seeing that happen, seeing this great leader fall would make it all worthwhile. Besides, he was dead. He had all the time in the world.  
  
The ghost heard something behind him, and he turned to look just as the Schwarz boy came climbing quickly down the side from where he and the other had been hiding. Damn, he'd forgotten about them!  
  
Just as Nagi ran towards Crawford, Weiss' other member came clambering down the side, sending several rocks bouncing through the ghost. The blond jumped the last few feet, landing a scant foot from where the dead man sat. The ghost watched him race towards his younger teammate. A smile twitched on the face of the phantom as his attitude changed. Moments before he had worried that he was going to lose his fun, but while Schwarz could protect themselves, Weiss could not. It looked like he was going to be able to take two people out during this section of the game regardless. He was confident the others would follow behind.  
  
* * * *  
  
Nagi rushed to Crawford, throwing out his barrier to envelope the man as soon as possible. The instant the barrier grasped Crawford, his face eased and returned to its normal emotionless expression. Nagi looked over at him, surprised at how much the glasses added to his features. Without them, he looked...less hard. There was something in his face, though, the Nagi couldn't decipher.  
  
"We need to save Weiss," Crawford said in the voice he used after receiving a vision. Nagi nodded, knowing it wasn't wise to ignore that.  
  
* * * *  
  
Every step Yohji took was difficult. The way had been easy at first, but as soon as Nagi had gotten to Crawford, moving had increased in difficulty tenfold. It seemed the creatures had given up the fight on Schwarz and had decided to make life more difficult for him. Yohji found it in his heart, however, to appreciate the fact that for whatever reason, the Gaurdians didn't feel the need to subject him to pain, or steal his life. The other side however, was that Omi was definitely struggling. Yohji thrashed his arms, trying to push the creatures away from him. Yohji stretched his arm out, reached to grasp the youngest member of his team...  
  
...But the creatures pushed back, and wouldn't let him go the final two inches he needed to grab his friend. Yohji cursed in frustration. What was he going to do now?  
  
Suddenly, Omi started screaming.  
  
* * * *  
  
Omi's stream of consciousness was random. His heart was beating fast, adrenalin pumping through his system. He didn't know quite what was happening, but he did know he needed to get out of this situation and fast. The blonde let out a gasp of pain as something pierced his mind, and he rebelled automatically as something began stirring up his memories.  
  
Omi found himself quickly getting lost within his mind. As the thing, whatever it was, dug through his head, he began losing grips on reality. Memories swirled through his head at sickening speeds, and he couldn't get them to stop. Slowly they stopped though, and Omi came to the realization that his breathing had slowed and the throbbing of his heart was also slowing.  
  
He was dying!  
  
The realization suddenly hit him, and Omi began his struggle with renewed vigor. He wouldn't give up, not this easily! Just as Omi felt the attacks might be relenting, he felt sudden piercing pain enter his body, as if tiny needles were being jabbed through all his pores. He shot his eyes wide open as he screamed, back arching from the initial pain.  
  
* * * *  
  
Yohji lunged forward suddenly, as the Gaurdians relinquished their hold on him. Damnit Omi, stop screaming! Yohji thought desperately in the direction of the honey blond. What was wrong? What had happened? Yohji watched desperately as his friend writhed in pain on the ground, his eyes wide open, yet not seeing. He reached out, grabbing a hold of his friends and, as if that would help.  
  
It didn't.  
  
"Fuck." Yohji cursed, helplessness filling him. Yohji knelt beside his friend, bringing him into his arms, hoping that it would somehow calm him.  
  
Omi stopped screaming, and Yohji's heart leapt in joy only to have it turn to despair moments later when he heard Omi's breathing, shallow and irregular. Every few breaths a hitch caught in his throat, almost like a sob.  
  
"They attacked his mind," Crawford's voice said from behind. Yohji swiveled his head to look at him.  
  
"What?"  
  
"It's unusual for them to do that, or with such severity," Crawford continued, unwilling to repeat himself.  
  
"Is he going to die?" Yohji slowly made his way up to where he and Nagi had been before, Omi held tightly against his chest. The boy was pale and his breathing scared him. Yohji shot a look over at Crawford. He was precognitive, wasn't he? He should know if his friend would survive. The American didn't answer though, the prick.  
  
* * * *  
  
Schuldich grinned. Nagi had just contacted him with the information that Crawford and Bombay were with them. Bombay wasn't dead, but he probably would be soon. He supposed that he wasn't really telling a lie after all to the broken Siberian. The German chuckled. These sorts of things were always so much fun. Besides, being on this mountain was boring. Harassing Weiss gave him something to do in his spare time. He was glad to have heard from Nagi. Crawford was back, and he felt certain relief at that. He didn't have to pretend to be the one in charge, anymore. He didn't know why Crawford wasn't able to contact him, though. Something he'd figure out when they got to the top, he supposed.  
  
"Walk a little faster, Ken-kun," Schuldich said, using the suffix like dear Bombay did. "All the action is happening at the top." Ken looked at him through swollen eyes. So dramatic! How had any of these guys become assassins? They were so emotional. As he thought back on it, the German realized how glad he was that Nagi wasn't a whining angst-filled teenager. He couldn't have any more of that, really.  
  
Well wait, that wasn't entirely true. Nagi DID whine and he WAS angst- filled. Just not in the same way as Weiss' resident teen. Nagi managed to twist his angst toward hatred of the whole entire world. That was fun.  
  
"I hate you."  
  
"I know, and that's a very good place to start. You know who else you hate?" Schuldich continued on amiably. When Siberian didn't say anything, Schuldich answered himself, "Kase."  
  
"No."  
  
"Ah, you say that, but was he really your friend?"'  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Tch. Think about it!" Schuldich continued the uphill climb as he simultaneously raked through Ken's head and pulled up more derogatory memories. Ken fell silent as he was bombarded with images.  
  
"Get out of my head," he finally gritted out.  
  
"Where's the fun in that?"  
  
"You're a sadistic bastard."  
  
"And I love it."  
  
"Fuck you."  
  
"Mmm, not today. You're still not my type."  
  
Ken fell silent as he continued following Schuldich up. He HATED the man with an undying passion. His cocky attitude, his rude demeanor. The way he was having second thoughts about Kase. Ken had always taken Kase as a friend who'd been mistaken, or misguided, or something. Schuldich, however, had gone through his mind and brought up things he'd forgotten. Things that, when seen a second time, suddenly seemed more sinister then they had the first time around. Schuldich had also but everything in sequential order, so that events that seemed harmless on their own, when stacked up, Ken could see as deliberate acts against him. Ken was seeing Kase play him for the fool.  
  
Damn him.  
  
But whether Ken was damning Schuldich or Kase, he couldn't say.  
  
* * * *  
  
"Aya!" Yohji shouted as Farfarello came in from behind, Aya resting in his arms. Farfarello deposited the redhead ungraciously onto the ground. Yohji cast him a glare before bending down beside the red head, looking him over. His left arm was broken, and there were some large bruises, and a bump that had formed on his head.  
  
"What happened to him?"  
  
"The shadows," Farfarello said shortly, looking at Yohji, his golden eye glittering. "They knocked him unconscious."  
  
"Didn't play with his mind?" Crawford cut in, coming to stand beside Farfarello, looking at the unconscious red head.  
  
"No."  
  
"Did they do anything to you?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Then it was deliberate and they really are being controlled," Nagi cut in, his features tightened as he concentrated.  
  
"So what? We can find the guy who's doing this, can't we?" Yohji cut in, turning around abruptly. "Maybe he can help Omi!"  
  
"Bombay is falling into shock," Crawford informed him calmly. "There's a good chance he's going to die."  
  
"_Fuck_ no," Yohji bit, surging to his feet and grabbing the American's ragged shirt. Golden brown eyes winced in pain for the slightest moment.  
  
"Let go of me," Crawford demanded, teeth clenched.  
  
"I'm not going to stay here, all apathetic and peaceful, watching my teammates die, and waiting until you decide to do something!" Yohji shouted.  
  
"Why don't _you_ do something, then?" Crawford asked coolly, his eyes glinting. "Go ahead, throw yourself down at the shadows below. Put up a fight. You'll die, but at least you'll feel like you did something. Or you could wait until Schuldich is here, since he might be able to contact the shadows, and the man in charge of them."  
  
"Damn you," Yohji cursed, pushing the American away. He noticed, with some satisfaction, the sword wound on the man's shoulder had been reopened, and was slowly seeping blood through the shirt.  
  
Crawford let himself be pushed back, remaining cool throughout the ordeal. The blonde man was nervous for his teammates, and he was almost at his edge. If Crawford was still where his glasses, he would've pushed them up on his nose, giving the image of still being in control. Image was everything. He was leading blindly. He still couldn't see the future, and was unsure of the events going around. He didn't know why they were being attacked, or who was doing it. There was something larger going on here, and he didn't know what it was.  
  
Crawford hated this feeling of uncertainty. He would not admit to it, however. He would not let this weakness known to his teammates. When he told Nagi he needed Weiss alive, there had been no vision. The American frowned deeply. It was becoming of the utmost importance to find out who was doing this.  
  
"This party looks like it needs some life to it," a nasal voice interrupted Crawford's thoughts, and the looked up suddenly.  
  
"Schuldich."  
  
"Omi!" The voice of the ex J-leaguer interrupted anything the German was about to say, as the other man came over the ledge, reaching his friend's side in moments. "You lied," he said, his words dripping hatred.  
  
"Barely. Your friend is going fast," Schuldich informed.  
  
"I'm going to kill you," Ken said through clenched teeth, rising. His ire for the German had reached its limit. He had _believed_ the red head. He had just gone through hell with the man; his faith having been shook in Kase.  
  
The damage was almost irreparable, Schuldich thought with a grin, as he skimmed through Ken's mind. His faith was almost completely gone. Cracks had formed and were already starting to grow as the soccer player made connections and links. Soon he would be questioning all his friends. Who would betray him next? Who could he trust?  
  
"What's wrong with Omi? And Aya?" Ken asked then, turning to Yohji.  
  
"The shadows attacked both of them," Yohji replied, his own eyes smoldering in anger.  
  
"Abyssinian was only attacked physically, but they raked through Bombay's mind," the American added. "Schuldich, I need to speak to you," Crawford said, stepping off to the side. The German nodded, stepping away.  
  
"It's in your head," Schuldich said, his voice low. "When I tried contacting you earlier, it rebounded me, giving me a migraine. It's also why you can't see anything."  
  
"Can you get it out?"  
  
"It will be painful."  
  
The American nodded. "Tonight."  
  
* * * *  
  
They had decided to break the night into watches. Crawford and Schuldich would take the first shift, with Ken and Yohji following them, and then Farfarello and Nagi. After the rest had fallen asleep, Crawford turned to Schuldich. Without saying anything, the German delved into the Americans mind, finding the shadow right away. The Americans barriers were up, strong as ever, but around them was a swirling blackness. The thing was slowly weaving itself into the American's shields, making extraction that much harder. Schuldich frowned, grabbing onto the thing mentally and giving it a sharp tug. Unconsciously, he registered a repressed gasp from Crawford. Damnit! The thing had gotten in pretty far. Slowly, he wrapped his consciousness around the creature, prying into the hooks it had slowly been putting into Crawford's own consciousness.  
  
If this worked, there might be a moment before Crawford got his shields back up. Schuldich reveled in that. Maybe he'd finally see what the American was thinking.  
  
Go Away.  
  
Schuldich started, his mental grip loosening for a moment. ~Who the hell do you think you are?~ Schuldich asked irritably, not taking kindly to the shock the creature had given him.  
  
Go Away.  
  
~Yeah, fuck off. You can't stay here.~ Schuldich replied. He readied his mind, and then gave a sharp tug. The thing resisted, its barbs still tight in Brad's consciousness  
  
Go Away.  
  
~I heard the first time,~ Schuldich 'said' with another tug, this time harder. He felt the creature loosening, and he grinned darkly. Applying steady pressure, he slowly began to tear the thing away. Abruptly, he fell away, much like one who's playing tug-a-war, and who's partner suddenly lets go. Across from him, Brad fell away too, his face twisted in pain, hands going to his head. Schuldich immediately took advantage of the situation, and delved into the American's mind.  
  
~Get out. ~  
  
~Hm. If I didn't know better, that thing is still in there. You guys should've been good friends. You have a lot in common, ~ Schuldich answered light heartedly enough. He watched as Crawford sat down, refusing to show any weakness, but obviously in pain.  
  
"You don't have any of your pills handy?" the dark haired man asked quietly.  
  
"No."  
  
There was a pause, before Crawford spoke again. "We need to get off this mountain."  
  
"Obviously-"  
  
"No. We need to get off now," Crawford added a firmness to his statement that Schuldich knew meant something more. He had seen something. "Wake everyone up."  
  
"What about Bombay and Abyssinian?"  
  
"We have to take them. Try to clear Bombay's mind up. I think his largest problem is hid mind, not his body," Crawford said shortly, his gaze still not quite in the present. Schuldich nodded, going to kneel beside the youngest of Weiss.  
  
It was chaos, inside the boy's mind. Schuldich grimace. He was becoming the local doctor around here. This was the complete opposite of what he normally did! Carefully, he went through and found Bombay's consciousness.  
  
~Schwarz? ~ The boy asked tentatively, grasping onto Schuldich as the only stable thing in the mess that was his mind.  
  
~The one and only. ~ You're in pretty bad shape here, chibi. ~  
  
~Get me out! ~ Bombay pleaded; completely disregarding who it was in his head, and what it could mean.  
  
~Working on it.~ Schuldich raked through the boys mind. Most of the problems the shadows had caused were on the surface. Still, they had managed to get in deeper in places, and that was more of a problem. ~You're one messed up kid, ~ Schuldich commented as he combed through memories. Omi didn't say anything.  
  
~It's all a façade, ~ the German noted suddenly, minutes later having delved into a particular part of Bombay's psyche.  
  
~Someone needs to keep them together, ~ Bombay replied.  
  
~You can't keep it up. ~  
  
~I have to. They rely on me. ~  
  
~Why aren't who you want to be? ~ Schuldich prodded, diverting more of his attention on the conversation. There was a pause before Bombay said anything.  
  
~Because it was easier in the beginning. ~  
  
~And now? ~  
  
~I'm used to it. I can't change. ~ Bombay replied with a sigh. He didn't know why he was telling his enemy all this. It felt good, to tell someone. ~It is who I am, now. Besides, if I acted the way I felt, I wouldn't be able to stand it.. And, I do care for them. They mean everything to me. ~  
  
Schuldich didn't say anything after that.  
  
  
  
* * * *  
  
"You're letting that maniac inside Omi's head?!" Ken lunged for Schuldich, moments after he realized the situation. Crawford stepped in to intervene, grabbing the man's shoulder.  
  
"We need to get off this mountain now. Schuldich is helping Bombay. He's helping ground his mind. The fast Bombay is better, the fast we get off."  
  
"He's probably making him crazier!" Ken protested, looking furtively at his friend. Crawford held onto Ken a moment longer before releasing him. He wasn't going to try anything.  
  
"What's happening?" Yohji asked, stepping up next to Crawford. The American cast a glance at the blonde.  
  
"All the things that have attacked us, the Guardians, broken into Elementals and Shadows are all headed by one person. They're preparing for a large attack. We need to get out of here."  
  
"Aren't we safe at this spot?"  
  
"They may not be able to come here, but they can do things around us. The flood and the storm, were both caused by the Guardians."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Why doesn't Estet know of someone who can control this many?" Nagi asked from where he was wrapping up what few supplies they had. Crawford didn't say anything, unwilling to admit he didn't know. The conversation was broken, with a groan from Omi. Schuldich stood up from where he was, and stepped back. Ken was at Omi's side, helping him to his feet.  
  
"How do you feel?"  
  
"Better," Omi said, plastering a small smile on his face. Ken brought him into an engulfing hug. He cast a glance to Schuldich, who returned it evenly. Finally the German gave an indiscreet nod. He wouldn't say anything.  
  
"We don't know where we're going," Aya said. His arm had been splinted in a crude fashion, honors done by Farfarello himself. The Irishman had been strangely compliant when he had been given the order by Crawford, and Aya, although unwilling to let the madman touch him, had finally relented when Crawford pointed out that he had been carried this far by the man.  
  
"If we start walking down, we'll eventually get somewhere," Yohji offered. Aya glared at him, and Yohji smiled winningly back at the red head.  
  
"Well, shit. How do we get down from here?" Ken said, looking down the side of the mountain in aggrevation.  
  
End Chapter VI!  
  
Well, I finally did it. What happened, you all might be asking it? First, it ended up with Omi almost dead, and I didn't want that! And so the story was stuck, because it was going places where I didn't want, and I was aggravated it. I'm so glad, though, that I finally got it out! (I hope I still have readers!)  
  
Also, this has been a really difficult year for me. I'm failing my pre cal class, and so I spend up to about three hours a night studying, and that detracts from writing. Also, one of my closest friends committed suicide a little more then a month ago, and so my writing suffered from that, too.  
  
Still! I really have no excuse to be so late. I really really apologize for that, and I'll try not to let it happen anymore. I hope you haven't given up on me! 


End file.
